The Age of Innocence
by pattyrose
Summary: On the eve of the Second World War, young Isabella has been taken from all she knows and is now stepdaughter to one of the richest men in America. Spending her summers in Washington State, she's unaware that this is where she & a young boy will find their fate, where childhood friendship will mature into the fiercest love: a love that must endure the end of innocence. Rated M. E&B.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back with another story. This one will be a bit different from anything I've written before, so I truly hope you enjoy it. **

**In honor of Veteran's Day tomorrow, I'd like to dedicate this first posting to all the courageous men and women who have fought for and served this great nation of ours. I'd also like to remember and honor the men and women who loved and stood behind those brave patriots.**

**Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

**And once again, Michelle Renker Rhodes is my silly, sweet Beta-Girl. **

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><p><em>"They have given their sons to the military services. They have stoked the furnaces and hurried the factory wheels. They have made the planes and welded the tanks. Riveted the ships and rolled the shells." -<strong> President Franklin D. Roosevelt (addressing women's contributions to WWII).<strong>_

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><p><strong>September, 2014<strong>

My eyes sweep over the vast field where green grass undulates lazily in the mid-September breeze, blades swaying back and forth, indecisive as to whether they're coming or going. Squinting against the sun's bright glare, I adjust my thick-lensed, red-rimmed frames so that I can make out the objects far beyond the old, magnificent evergreen.

Thick lenses notwithstanding, my sight is no longer what it once was. I remove the burdensome frames and bunch up my red silk blouse around them, quickly wiping off miniscule fragments of lint before returning them to their resting place.

Moving closer to the window, I spy something headed this way, kicking up drab, dry earth into the air and making that air drift and churn like a miniature hurricane. The word for the rapidly approaching object is on the tip of my tongue, but as so many things lately, it escapes me for a few seconds; names and entities intimately familiar take longer to process; they become 'watchamacallits' in my mind.

But this – four wheels, an engine, and a steering wheel – this is almost comical how long it's taking me to remember the name!

Oh yes, it's a car.

A familiar one. Big and black, with three rows and a huge trunk used to carry bikes and basketballs...

An SUV…_Isabella's_ SUV.

My heart gives a thrilled little lurch. I place a withered hand over it to try and ease its anxious hammering.

"Leah! Leah, Isabella's coming!"

"Yes, Mama."

Leah's response carries from one of the other rooms, probably the kitchen judging from the delicious scents wafting in the air.

"I told you she and the kids were coming today, remember? And so are Bastian and Charlie and their families."

A vague recollection tickles somewhere in the back of my mind…there is something I should be remembering about today…

"It's your ninetieth birthday, Mama."

"Oh yes," I say. "So it is."

"That's nothing to be so nonchalant about," she chuckles. "It's a milestone to be proud of."

"Well, at least it's an excuse for your brothers and the grandchildren to visit."

I keep my eyes on the fast-moving vehicle headed this way, still dispersing earth and soil as it barrels down the narrow, winding road. The SUV takes the last bend at an angle that makes me shudder, and then it barely comes to a halting stop before the boy is already out. His long hair, so much like his great-grandfather's hair, waves wildly in the wind.

"Look, it's Isabella and the kids! Are they staying for supper?" I ask, still looking out the window.

My daughter, Leah, stands behind me. She rests her hand on my shoulder.

"Yes, Mama," she says. Her voice sounds quietly patient. "Today is your birthday."

"Oh yes. So it is."

I smile and watch Isabella open the trunk. She pulls out a couple of large, brown paper bags with the words _"Whole Foods"_ printed on the side and precariously balances each in one arm while the girls languidly step out of the back seat, eyes glued to those little telephones they carry with them everywhere.

"Ethan, at least help me with one of these bags!" I hear Isabella screech. The boy plainly huffs before turning around and grabbing one of the bags from his mother's arms.

"Your father will be so pleased to see them," I say before turning to look at Leah. "Should I wake him, do you think?"

Leah tilts her head, her dark eyes warm as she strokes my cheek, her tender fingers gliding back and forth along withered, spotted skin.

"Mama, maybe not just yet."

"I suppose the kids can be a bit rambunctious, can't they, especially that Ethan." I smile. "Got too much of his great-grandpa in him. We'll wake him later then, after Charlie and Bastian arrive with their families."

She nods and takes my hand in hers. "Okay, Mama."

An adamant fist bangs on the door, demanding entry.

"Coming! Coming!" Leah says. She walks to the door while I wait anxiously by my spot near the window, my heart suddenly racing with anticipation. Yet when Leah opens up, the boy runs in right past her, drops the bag, and all I manage to catch are streaks of color - red, brown, blue, and white - before he turns right back around.

"Ethan! Ethan, get your butt back over here and say hi to your grandmothers!"

Isabella storms in, dropping the other bag on the floor as she yells after her youngest little monster.

But the boy barely bothers to turn and merely throws out a hurried "Hi Grandmas!" before he's off.

Still, I can't fault him for being anxious to get to the big evergreen, where the tire swing awaits him underneath a canopy of heavy branches. It's always been one of my favorite spots as well.

There are things I don't remember quite so easily anymore, moments lost in a haze of time and age - moments when I'm about to say something or think something, and then suddenly the words or thoughts are…gone, gone like a flowing, silver stream swallowed up by a wide, dark river.

But there are moments and truths that will never fade; not with time or age.

Like this truth: Ethan loves that swing. He laughs and yells and tilts himself practically up to the sky while his long, skinny legs propel him to heights that make his mother cringe and scream and that fill my mind with so many memories…

I'm snapped back to the present by Isabella's anger.

She scowls at her son's retreating form. "That damn boy has been running wild since his father was deployed again. I'm going to have to tell Matt to have a talk with him as soon as he returns from duty. Skye, Olivia, put the phones down and say hi to your grandmothers."

With a deep sigh, the twin, sixteen year-old blond, blue-eyed beauties return their phones to their purses. They take after their father, unlike their brother; when I look at Ethan, I'm back along the Sol-Duc River eighty-somewhat years ago, looking up into the face of-

"Hi, Nana Bella," Skye (or is it Olivia?) says, giving me a kiss and a careful hug, breaking me out of one of those reveries that have been taking over more and more lately. Then the other one hugs and kisses me.

Then Isabella, my namesake, hugs me. "Happy Birthday, Nana. How have you been? You look so pretty in your red blouse and red lipstick."

"Why thank you, Child. I've been just fine."

I study her through my thick, red frames. There's a deep melancholy in Isabella's big, golden eyes, a sadness that I can't fail to recognize; it's the constant fear and longing for a lover risking his life, thousands of miles away. Yet there's something else lurking deep within her eyes today, something she seems to be trying to hide.

I pat her soft cheek. "Your grandfather will be so happy to see you."

She smiles. "We brought you a birthday present."

"You and the kids visiting us is all the present we need."

She sighs and hugs me tight again. "Oh, Nana."

OOOOOOOOOO

After putting away the groceries she's brought, Isabella excuses herself, and I go join my daughter and great-granddaughters in the kitchen. My gait is admittedly a bit slow these days, and so I hear the girls squealing before seeing the object that's caused all the fuss:

A bowl full of dark, brown batter rests in the middle of the counter.

"You're baking a cake?" I ask.

Leah looks up quickly. "Mama! It was a surprise! Girls, I thought I asked you to keep Nana Bella entertained in the front room, so she wouldn't see her cake?"

"Sorry." They murmur simultaneously – though they don't even look up from their phones.

Leah purses her lips, but smiles again when she looks back to me.

"Of course I'm baking a cake, Mama. It's your birthday today."

"Oh yes, it is. I suppose I'll be turning…ninety."

"That's right!" Leah grins from ear to ear. "I'm so proud of you, Mama!"

"I don't see how my being older than the moon is something to be proud of, but very well," I proclaim.

Apparently, I've said something humorous because Skye and Olivia both giggle.

"Now, Mama, don't act so unimpressed." Leah lifts one reprimanding eyebrow at me as she mixes away at the batter. "Not many people can say they've been blessed with so many years and have seen so much rich history first-hand."

I roll my eyes as I take a seat at the counter.

The girls gather around, peeking up from their phones every couple of minutes to see what their grandmother is doing, until I finally spy Leah quirk an admonishing eyebrow at them. There's a chorus of quiet sighs as the phones get placed on the counter, and their sleeves get rolled up.

"You made my favorite cake?" I ask.

"Well, it's your birthday, so of course I'd make your favorite."

"It's my birthday…"

A hazy mist sheathes my eyes. For a few seconds, it's not my daughter or granddaughters I see standing in the kitchen…

_It's a beautiful woman with silky, copper hair_, _pinned into a simple bun. A white apron covers up the slightly worn, yet elegant, blue day dress that falls to just below her knees. She smiles at me, her bright, green eyes sparkling warmly. She holds a mixing spoon in one hand and a bowlful of home-made batter in the other. _

"_Bella, I'm baking a cake for Edward's birthday. Would you like to help?"_

"_I've never baked a cake."_

"_You've never helped your mama bake a cake?" There's obvious surprise in her voice._

"_No, ma'am. Mrs. Clearwater does all our cooking, and I'm not allowed in the kitchen to watch. Mother says it isn't ladylike."_

_She sighs, her warm eyes crinkling at the corners. "Well here in this house you're allowed to learn and help with anything you want." Her fingers stroke my cheek. "Do you want to help?"_

_I nod vigorously. "Yes, Mrs. Cullen."_

"_Okay, then," she says softly. "And remember, Bella, you may just call me Esme..."_

"This cake is hella-weird," Olivia (or Skye) says. She purses those purple-painted lips of hers, glaring warily at the mix before her. "You're putting vinegar in it?"

"And water?" Skye (or Olivia) giggles.

"That's how the recipe goes." Leah patiently mixes away.

"Where are the butter, eggs and milk?" one of the girls asks. "When are you going to add in those?"

"There's no butter, eggs or milk in this cake," Leah says.

"What?" the girl cries. "What kind of wack-as-hell cake doesn't have butter, eggs or milk?"

"The kind of cake we used to have when I was a little girl growing up during the Depression," I say, "when butter, eggs and milk were too expensive, and then during the war, when they were rationed, and we had to go without sometimes."

Olivia/Skye wrinkles her dainty, button nose. "Growing up back then must've seriously sucked - no internet, no iPads, no cell phones. I think I would've died. But weren't your parents rich, Nana Bella?"

"_Isabella, the piano teacher will be here in one hour. Go ask Mrs. Cope to help you get ready. And Isabella, I've asked the French tutor to come in this afternoon for an extra lesson. He's informed me that you haven't been practicing your conjugations..."_

"Yes. Yes, Mother had money. But she wasn't born with such, and most of the people I knew weren't wealthy."

I look down at the thin, plain white gold band on the fourth finger of my left hand, and all the while, I feel their eyes on me, but my mind sees someone else...

"_I know it's not much, and I know your mother will probably hate it and say you deserve better, and she'll be right about that. But this here ring has got my very heart and soul wrapped around it, Bella, and it's yours, heart and soul and body and all, if you'll have me..."_

The front screen door screeches open, and a few seconds later, Ethan storms into the kitchen, huffing and puffing, nostrils smoking like a half-stoked chimney.

"Ethan, what in the world is the matter?" Leah asks him.

"Mom made me get off the swing because she says I'm going to break my goddamn neck, and she doesn't have the goddamn time or patience to take me to the hospital! Never lets me have any fun!"

He opens up the refrigerator and pulls out the gallon of milk, drinking straight from the container. When he's done, he barrels right back out of the kitchen.

"Where are you going now?" Leah calls after him.

"To get my Xbox out of the car!"

"Boy spends too much time on that contraption," I opine with a shake of my head.

While Leah carries the cake to the oven, I stick the mixing spoon in my mouth and give it a couple of good licks before she can catch me – besides, no one else seems to be interested in tasting the mix. Then I pick up the rest of the dirty utensils and carry them all to the sink. All the while, Olivia and Skye simultaneously complain about the hella-weird cake and check their phones in case they've missed a life-or-death _communiqué_ in the past ten minutes.

"Mama, what are you doing?" Leah asks.

"Why, what does it look like I'm doing?" I say. "I'm scrubbing."

Leah reaches into the sink and gently yet firmly takes the sponge and utensils out of my hands, nudging me aside.

"Mama, that's what we've got a dishwasher for."

"Oh yes. The dishwasher." I shake my head, having forgotten about that contraption.

"Then perhaps these girls here can help me tidy up the kitchen. In my day, we had to help clean up before we got to lick the bowl."

"Nana Bella, we don't want to lick the bowl! Do you know how many calories are probably in that batter?" Skye/Olivia says. "If we lick that bowl, we'll have to watch what we eat for two weeks!"

"Humph," I snort. "When _we_ were kids, we didn't have to mind calories because we spent most of our time playing and running around outdoors, not with our heads glued to one screen or another."

"Mama, I think you're getting tired. Why don't you go relax for a little while? Once Charlie and Bastian and the rest of the family arrives, it'll be a madhouse around here."

She's trying to get rid of me. I'm making a nuisance of myself, I suppose.

"Very well. I'll just go upstairs and check on your father."

"Mama, don't go up those stairs just now. Go rest in the bedroom down here. You'll need help coming down otherwise, and I'm busy in the kitchen."

"Then I'm going out front to check on Isabella."

"Isabella's fine, Mama. Go take a nap."

I ignore her and walk out through the screeching screen door from which Ethan just walked in.

OOOOOOOOOO

I forget things. I do. But I know that it's September, and I know that the sun shining today is rare for this time of year here in the majestic mountains of Washington. The air should be full of clouds and mist hiding the mountains, shrouding them in soft, white, billowy cotton.

Instead, the heat of the sun rains down over my wrinkled skin, highlighting liver spots and pruned hands. I raise my face to the sun as I walk, daring it to do more damage than it's already done over the past nine decades.

When I reopen my eyes, they rest on the black tire swing under the evergreen that's been our gathering place ever since…well, ever since I can remember.

Isabella swings herself over the tire-swing, to and fro like a pendulum of passing time.

I hear her quiet sobs, the hitch of her breath, the uneven sighs.

I see the surprise in her eyes when she opens them and finds me sitting on the grass in front of her, my blue-jean clad legs folded at my side.

"Nana." She wipes away the smudged makeup under her eyes. "I didn't hear you approaching."

"One of the benefits of being old," I smile. "Our bodies and souls are so close to the hereafter that our footsteps are almost ghost-like."

She shakes her head, and I chuckle.

"What is it, Child? Has the boy finally driven you insane, or is it something else that's got you like this?"

"It's…" She looks up and holds my gaze.

Her eyes are so much like my own used to be: rich golden orbs I saw in my reflection for so many decades. My husband says that Isabella's long, thick chestnut hair is exactly the same shade as mine as well.

Then I remind him that my hair hasn't had a lick of chestnut in it for at least two decades, and that I've got four eyes now instead of two. It's his love for me that keeps me perpetually young in his eyes. The mirror tells a completely different story.

"You wouldn't understand, Nana," Isabella says, forcing my attention back to her.

"Now I know I'm no spring chicken," I chuckle, "but I remember what it's like to have young children. And I also remember what it's like to have a man off at war.

"Yes, I know you do, Nana," Isabella says. "But times have changed." She looks off into the horizon, her honey-colored eyes hardening, losing their sweet softness. "Warfare has changed. There are drones now, and IEDs, and men who twist religious beliefs to suit their own horrific purposes. And I know that when you grew up, you had hardships too, Nana, like the Depression and yes, the war." She narrows her eyes. "But you didn't have the horrors of school shootings or of children killing children. You didn't have the Taliban or Isis or home-grown terrorists for that matter, and you certainly didn't have to grow up in the aftermath of Nine-Eleven," she snorts. "There was an innocence to your time that my children will never experience. And any innocence this country, this _world_ may have still possessed was lost on Nine-Eleven."

She looks down. Her boot-covered feet drag through the indentation of dirt that decades of swinging have left in that spot.

"Life is so much harder now, Nana. You just wouldn't understand."

I gaze at my favorite granddaughter. She's my favorite because she's his favorite. And she's his favorite because he says he sees a reincarnation of me in her. A reincarnation of me physically yes, but more than that, he sees a reincarnation of the way I once saw the world with optimism and faith, with unshakable beliefs and with a certainty in the basic concepts of love, promise and hope.

She doesn't seem to possess that faith in love and hope right now, and I don't want him to see her this way.

I lay a heavily lined, wrinkled hand on Isabella's leg, waiting patiently for her to once more meet my eyes.

"Isabella, I am turning ninety today, and yes, times have certainly changed in the past few years, but I know about life. I know about love. I know about blessings and heartache and unbridled joy. I know about fury, and believe it or not," I grin, "I know quite a bit about passion as well. I know about innocence had and innocence lost."

I close my eyes then.

Behind ancient lids, I see them all young and strong. I see the river sparkling like diamonds, and Sandy running and barking. I see Carlisle and Esme sitting out on the porch, kissing quietly by the light of the full moon. I see Alice running with her skirts flying high in the wind, and Jasper chasing her despite his bad leg. I see Rose and Masen holding hands through the woods. I see Jacob, smiling. I see my Dad…I see Papa Phil…I see Mother with her glittering diamonds…

But most prominently I see him; I see bright, emerald eyes full of an innocence that stole my breath, an innocence that stole my heart.

An innocence an entire nation lost one dark, December day.

Isabella believes my time was the age of innocence. Well it was, I suppose, but it was so much more than that.

"I was just shy of ten years old the first time I met him…"

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><p><strong>AN: Thoughts?**

**This will be mainly in BPOV, with EPOVs later on in the story. It will update twice weekly, Mondays and Thursdays.**

**Also, in this coming Thursday's posting, we'll begin a playlist of the great music that came out of the 1930's and 1940's. :) **

**It's been a while since we've WIP'd together, so let me know if you've got any other questions, Lovies. :)**

**Twitter: PattyRosa817**

**Link to **_**'Stories by Pattyrose'**_** on facebook is on my profile page.**


	2. Chapter 1: The Union Builder

**A/N: Good morning, my lovelies. I hope you all enjoyed the prologue to our story. I know there are lots of questions, and as we continue with the story, each will be answered.**

*****A few housekeeping items***:**

**First, thank you all for your lovely reviews. In the past few days, I've learned so many wonderful things about parents and grandparents who lived through the Great Depression and WWII, and I've appreciated each and every story. **

**Second, once or twice a chapter, I'll be switching back to 2014 Bella's POV. I'll mark the beginning and ending of this switch like this: ########## Otherwise, if we're just changing scenes, it'll be marked this way: OOOOOOOOO. If this turns out to be too confusing, I'll try to find a different way to do it. And if you don't understand what the heck I'm talking about here, don't worry; it'll probably become clear as you read. :)**

**Third, we're beginning our AOI PLAYLIST this chapter! Go to the ending A/N for that.**

**Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes.**

**Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The story is mine.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: 1934 – The Union Builder<strong>

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"I was just shy of ten years old the first time I met him…it was July first, 1934…"

Lost in memories once again, I suppose more than a couple of minutes pass before I look up at Isabella. She's watching me patiently.

"Actually," I say. "I think this will make more sense if we go back just a little bit to mid-June of 1934…"

##########

1934 was a hard time all over the place. We were in the middle of what later became known as the Great Depression. Over a quarter of our nation's work force was unemployed; businesses and banks closed daily. You had soup lines and Hoovervilles, hobos and FDR with his New Deals. You had dried-up fields and dust storms in the Midwest. In Chicago, it was the heyday of bank robbers and gangsters. And over in Europe…in Europe, a twisted man and his party were just beginning their rise to power.

As for me…at the ripe, old age of nine, I was taking my first coast-to-coast railway ride, commencing in New York, New York, on the east coast of the U.S. and culminating in Seattle, Washington on the west coast.

See, I was a little, rich girl.

I'd already embarked on the first leg of my trip - an eighteen hour ride from New York City's Grand Central Station to Chicago's Union Station. This trip occurred on the _21st Century Limited_, a wonderful passenger train at the time but only for the wealthy and privileged, you see. You've doubtless seen the movies about those "old-fashioned" passenger trains of the 1930's and 1940's with the magnificent restaurants and sleeper cars and people dressed to the nines for a train ride? Well, all those movies are based on the splendor that was the _21st Century Limited_.

Now this wasn't my first train ride, mind you, but it was the first one with such finery and extravagance.

I wasn't born a little rich girl.

##########

"Maybe I should go back a little further," I muse.

Isabella laughs indulgently, and though I know she's just humoring me, it does my heart good to hear her do so.

"Go ahead, Nana. Take your time."

##########

I was born to a housewife and an elementary schoolteacher in a small town on the outskirts of Chicago. My father, Charles Swan, once told me he became a teacher because he wanted to enrich and enlighten children's lives. My mother, Renee Dwyer, once told me she married a schoolteacher because it was either that or starve.

Now the summer before my first ride on the _21st Century Limited_, Mother took me on a summer weekend trip to New York.

"Times are hard right now, Renee," my dad said when Mother mentioned her desire to take this trip. "You've seen what it's like for most folk. At least we've got a roof over our heads and enough to put food on the table, but us going to New York right now is something we can hardly afford!"

Mother ignored him and stood her ground, and so she and I went without him.

Mother loved New York. She loved reading about the rich, high society socialites and tycoons who lived there. She loved hearing about their endless wealth and about their extravagant life-styles despite the poverty surrounding us from every side.

"Reading about them rich socialites and hearing about their parties and adventures is my only way of escaping the horrors of this world we live in," she used to tell me. "It's my only way to forget, even for just a little while, that I've ended up married to a man who'll never get us out of that shack we call a home, a man who's going nowhere fast, a man who even now at my young age of twenty seven, is doing nothing more than dragging me down!"

And so we spent the weekend walking up and down the streets of New York's wealthiest neighborhoods: Park Avenue and Fifth Avenue, admiring the splendor of the Savoy Plaza Hotel and the majestic height of the Empire State Building - at the time the tallest building in the world. And as we traveled from one place to another, we passed bread lines where thin, gaunt men with eyes sunk into their skulls waited for something…anything, while their caps covered greasy hair that hadn't been washed in weeks due to the lack of clean water that generally resulted when one lacked a home.

Mother pretended they weren't there.

"Come along, Isabella," she instructed when I dared look their way as we walked past Central Park.

We spent what became a life-altering afternoon having tea at the new Waldorf-Astoria – which had just opened the year before. Mother wore her best dress: a light cream, bias cut shift that fell to her knees, a bit more worn and fitted than it was supposed to be because she'd owned the dress for quite a while.

"Your father hasn't seen fit to buy me a new dress in a while," I remember her saying as she dressed in front of the mirror in our small hotel room that morning, "but at least this one shows off my legs and calves beautifully, as well as the curves I managed to keep despite nine long months of hell and torture."

I remember watching her do her makeup, draw in her pencil-thin brows and line her red-stained lips before applying her rouge. She adjusted the bust-line of her dress, cupping her breasts and raising them so that the top swells showed over the square neckline. She added in her shoulder pads before putting on her mother's royal blue gloves.

"One of the only pretty things my own mother left me," I was told.

Last was the royal blue hat she'd bought herself the day before, the one with the fancy netting that cost about a week of Dad's salary.

"And you'd better not breathe a sole number of the price of this hat to your father," she warned me. "Bad enough he's going to blow his top when he sees how much of our savings I've used for this trip. But as my own mother always said, better to enjoy your money now while you're still young enough to do so than to save it for when you've got a foot in the grave."

She tilted the hat to the side so that the netting covered one of her dark blue eyes. It gave her an air of mystery that made her look breathtaking.

"You look beautiful, Mother," I told her because she did look beautiful, with her pretty clothing, and her pretty face, and her short, bobbed blond hair. Mother was a beauty to behold; there was no denying it.

She gave me a pleased smile before dressing me in my Sunday best: a blue, Peter-Pan collar dress that matched her gloves and new hat. The dress was a slight bit faded as I'd owned it for a while by then. Mother frowned while she pulled on the hem of my dress. Though it was supposed to fit just over my knees, it fell a couple of inches above that.

"Lord, why you had to go and have that growth spurt a few months back is beyond me." She threw her hands up in surrender and then turned to pick up the comb, brushing my long, auburn hair before clipping a blue bow to my crown. Lastly, she gave me a pair of cream gloves to put on.

She pursed her lips as she took in the finished product. "I suppose you'll have to do."

We arrived at the Waldorf-Astoria on that warm, summer morning. I remember looking up at the grey, granite façade, marveling at the fact that this was, as my mother had informed me on our way over here, the largest hotel in the world. Mother was calling my name, scolding me for staring slack-jawed, for being awe-struck by the bronze doors and the tuxedoed doorman waiting to open the door for me, when another gentleman approached, and the doorman quickly opened the door for him instead. The gentleman waited and held the door for Mother and me.

"Why, thank you so much," Mother said in her sweetest voice, smiling her sweetest smile and fluttering her long lashes in that way she sometimes did when we went to the fruit market so that Mr. Lee would give her an extra couple of apples for our twelve cents. She adjusted her short, fur stole around her shoulders – another of the few, nice things her mother had left her.

"You're very welcome," the gentleman replied. He had a deep, voice, but there was a smile in it too, and his thick mustache twitched as if in good humor.

Mother took my hand as we passed by the gentleman into the opulence of the grand foyer of the hotel, yet instead of leading us on, she paused and turned around.

The gentleman stopped and looked down at me. "You look very lovely this morning, Young Lady."

"Thank you," I replied.

He looked at Mother and gave a little bow her way, holding his fedora pressed against his chest. "And so do you, Madam. I would hope your husband realizes how lucky he is, to have such a beautiful family."

"I thank you, Sir, and if my husband were here, I would hope he'd thank you as well."

"Is he waiting for you further in the building?" he asked, his tone, his voice, his stance all solid and elegant. He was dressed in a dark, crisp, three-piece suit, and even I, eight years old at the time and as of yet not knowing a thing about the world, could see how the suit screamed of wealth and taste and refinement.

"May I have the honor of escorting you to him?"

"You may have the honor of escorting us, but my husband is not here. My daughter and I were about to have tea by ourselves."

"I would hate to intrude on such a lovely Mother-Daughter outing."

"It would be no intrusion at all, Sir, I assure you."

I remember there was something about the way Mother said this, the indirect purposefulness, the breathy and unfamiliar quality of her voice. Her hand tightened around mine as if instructing me to remain quiet - though what she may have expected I would say at that moment to this day eludes me. Oh, don't get me wrong; I've figured out what she feared I might say. I just fail to understand how she thought any of that would've even crossed my mind at the time.

Either way, there was a pause in the conversation. The gentleman looked at his gold watch and then back at Mother.

"In that case, please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Philip Dwyer the Second, and I would deeply appreciate the honor of escorting you and your lovely daughter to tea."

Six months later, Mother divorced Dad, and she and I moved to New York to live with my new Stepfather, Philip Dwyer the Second: railroad tycoon and possessor of a fortune that would finally provide Mother with the type of lifestyle she was meant for – or so she told me.

And a few weeks after that, Mother enrolled me in Miss Tudor's School in New Paltz, New York where I was to board for the remainder of my school years until the summer months when I would join her and Papa Phil - as he'd asked me to call him after the ceremony - up in the mountains of Washington State, where he'd grown up as a boy and to which he returned every year for a summer sojourn.

The divorce settlement stipulated that I would spend two weeks every summer with my dad as well as alternating weeks in the spring and the Christmas holiday. Dad and Mother had decided that it would be better to break up the long train ride to Washington and back for me since I'd be traveling alone both ways, as Mother and Papa Phil would begin their vacations before me and end it after I left. Therefore, I'd spend one week with Dad in Chicago on the way to Washington and one week with him when returning from Washington before resuming my studies at Miss Tudor's.

Dad and I spent that first week fishing in Lake Michigan, walking around the Navy Pier eating popcorn and cotton candy – things we never did with Mother. We went to the zoo and the World's Fair. We listened to _The Fred Allen Show_ and Jack Benny on the radio. We camped outdoors in our back yard, and we sat on the porch outside our small house while he told me stories of school and the children he taught, and I told him about the passenger train _21st Century Limited_.

"You have to walk on a plush, red carpet to board at the station, and the attendants, all dressed in tuxedoes, called me _Miss Dwyer_," I said, lifting my chin and speaking in my best uppity tone.

Dad laughed. "I bet they tended to your every whim." When I shrugged, he said, "Well no, you're not a child prone to whims, are you?"

I told him about the cabin I had to myself for the night on the train, rather than the two Pullmans that Mother and I had once shared in a room with two other women the first time she and I went to New York. Mother had complained all night about their snoring.

He laughed at all my stories, but there was a deep sadness to his laugh, which I found masochistically amazing. It was a laugh I would hear many more times in my life, from many people.

Dad's best friend, Billy, would come over some nights with his son Jacob, who was almost three years older than I. Jake and I would run around while Dad and Uncle Billy danced on the grave of prohibition and drank homemade moonshine as they reminisced over the Great War in which they'd both served. Billy had lost a leg in Germany, so now wore a wooden one that slowed him down a bit. I remember hearing him laugh with Dad once, saying it didn't slow him down in bed, and I remember thinking how that made no sense because you were sleeping in bed anyway, weren't you?

One night, Dad may have had a little too much to drink.

After Uncle Billy and Jake left, Dad and I were left sitting on the porch steps. I got up to go inside, but Dad took a sudden hold of my arm and pulled me into his side. Then he began sobbing like a baby.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I failed you, Isabella. I'm sorry," he repeated over and over.

I sat there and let him hold me and cry because I had no idea at what he'd failed. Dad was a war hero, a school hero…

My hero.

OOOOOOOOOO

Now let's get back to mid-June, 1934.

I was at Union Station in Chicago with my Dad, in the Great Room waiting to board the _Union Builder_, the passenger train that would take me on the last leg of my trip, to Seattle, Washington, where Mother and Papa Phil awaited me.

And so Dad and I stood now by the platform before I boarded for the two and a half day trip through six states in the northwestern part of the country. Mother and Papa Phil had sent Mrs. Cope for me two days before. She was to be my attendant: an older, chunky lady with white hair but young, kind eyes, and while Dad and I said our goodbyes, she ensured that the train attendants properly loaded my new luggage and then went to get my room ready.

"Now you be careful over there in Washington - lots of wilderness over there. S'a good thing that Bonnie and Clyde pair got themselves caught and killed, but there's always copycats."

"I'll be careful."

"And I know it's a hot summer, but your swimming is still poor. Wait 'til you come back end of August, and we'll practice some more before you try to go swimming."

"I'll wait."

Dad stared at me, studying my eyes, my nose, my hair, and the rest of me as if trying to memorize it all.

He swallowed thickly. "I love you, Isabella; don't you forget that. You've got to be my strong girl now. Be my brave girl."

And as happened so often in my young life, I didn't know exactly what he meant. All I knew in that moment was that I wanted to throw myself into his strong arms and beg him to keep me here with him where I belonged. But as young as I was, I knew he couldn't. I knew Mother and Papa Phil wouldn't allow him to keep me, and so there was no point in asking for things I couldn't have.

"I will. I love you too, Dad."

I hugged him, and then I smiled and waved goodbye to him from the window of the rich, mahogany wood paneled, public car. And as the train whistled its way out of Union Station, I sat over one of the fine, flower-patterned, velvet upholstered benches and allowed only one solitary tear to escape because I would be strong. I would be brave.

When Mrs. Cope came to find me, she knelt in front of me and took my hand.

"It'll be all right, Isabella."

I didn't answer. Instead, I kept my eyes on my lap, fighting the painful sting in my eyes.

"Isabella," she said softly, and waited for me to meet her gaze. When I did, she smiled. "It _will_ be all right. Things happen as they're meant to. Every path has a destination, even if at first it's hard to see where the long, winding road is taking us."

Eventually, Mrs. Cope led me to our private car. I was Isabella Marie Dwyer now, and my stepfather owned this railroad, mountain to mountain, from sea to shining sea.

And as I looked out of the clear, glass windows at the blackened landscape whirring by us, I had no idea that this long, winding road made of steel and metal would steamroll head on through prairies and mountains - and deliver me straight to my fate.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thoughts?**

**AOI PLAYLIST Song #1:**

_**Moonglow**_** by Benny Goodman (1934)**

_**It must have been moonglow, way up in the blue**__**  
><strong>__**It must have been moonglow that led me straight to you…**_

***The **_**21**__**st**__** Century Limited**_** is based on the real life **_**20**__**th**__** Century Limited**_**, a real passenger train aimed at the upper class that ran between 1902 and 1967.** **Passengers walked to the train on a red carpet which was rolled out in New York and Chicago and was designed specifically for the train. Hence, the term, "Getting the red carpet treatment." **

***The **_**Union Builder**_** is based on the real life **_**Empire Builder, **_**a passenger train now operated by Amtrak in the midwestern and northwestern U.S. Before Amtrak, the Empire Builder was the flagship train of the Great Northern Railway. In operation since 1929, the train passes through some of the most magnificent landscape in the country. **

**Twitter: PattyRosa817**

**Link to 'Stories by PattyRose' is on my profile page.**

**See you all on Monday. :)**


	3. Chapter 2: Evergreen Eyes

**A/N: Thank you for your wonderful reviews. My little girl had a birthday this weekend, and things were pretty busy, so if I didn't get back to you last week, I'll try my best to do so this week. :)**

**Betad by the wonderful Michelle Renker Rhodes**

**Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The storyline is mine.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2 – Evergreen Eyes<strong>

Over the next couple of days, we trekked through the rural lands of Wisconsin before crossing the Upper Mississippi River. We stopped at St. Paul, Minnesota for a while; after which, the landscape changed from green-treed forests to barren, flat prairie land with only the occasional sight of a farmstead in the distance. Through North Dakota, we rode by the Northern Plains and then came the mountains upon mountains of Montana, which continued through Idaho and straight into Washington, where a little over two and a half days into our trip, we arrived at King Street Station in Seattle.

While the attendants took care of my luggage, Mrs. Cope led me through and out of the train station. Outside, I squinted my eyes against the rainy mist in the air.

"Where is Mother?" I asked Mrs. Cope as she whispered quietly with a man in a black suit and a black, shiny cap. He stood next to a long, black and red car. The last few months of being Philip Dwyer the Second's stepdaughter had familiarized me with chauffeurs and limousines.

Mrs. Cope quickly shook her head before giving me a small smile – one of those aforementioned sad ones I was beginning to realize preceded lies meant to comfort us.

"Isabella, this is Felix. He'll be your family's personal chauffeur while up here in Washington, and he's been sent by your mother and father in the very best car! They're eagerly awaiting us back at the house."

My eyes scanned the area once again. Red and green trolleys crisscrossed in front of us, while a backdrop of huge, snow-peaked mountains rose up in the distance, covered by a blanket of billowing clouds.

But there was no Mother.

I turned back to them.

"How do you do, Felix?"

"Very well, Miss Dwyer. May I help you in?"

With Felix's assistance, I climbed into the black leather back seat of the best car, where Mrs. Cope joined me. Once my entire luggage set was situated nicely, Felix climbed into the front of the best car, and we were off.

"How far is the house?" I asked a few minutes into our trip.

"The house is in the Olympic Mountains," Mrs. Cope smiled, "in a small town in Clallam County. It's about four hours away."

"What's the town called?"

"Well…it doesn't really have a name," she chuckled. "Not officially, anyhow. Most folks call it Forks because of the rivers that fork around it."

I listened to her stories about growing up in the small town of Forks, and about how Papa Phil had grown up there as well, in a house with no electricity or running water until he'd decided to strike out on his own and make his fortune. Determined and ambitious, he'd succeeded quickly, making his fortune through railroads, and a few years later, he'd had the house where he'd grown up torn down, and he built the magnificent summer retreat that stood there now.

Lulled by the sound of her voice, in combination with my exhaustion and the passing scenery of trees, fauna, clouds and more trees, fauna and clouds, I must have fallen asleep. The next thing I knew, we were pulling up in front of a massive home.

It was white with a wrap-around porch and more windows than I could count. The porch itself was richly appointed with furnishings and carpets and grand, white columns. The second story had another wrap-around porch, with long, glass doors framed by blue shutters.

Mother and Papa Phil sat together on a porch swing, each holding a glass of what I would now guess to be scotch for Mother and brandy for Papa Phil. When Felix opened the back door for me, Mother and Papa Phil stood, and Mother ran to me, her mouth pulled up in a glorious grin, her blue eyes sparkling with joy.

At least, that how she greeted me in my mind.

In reality, she smiled elegantly and stood there waiting.

I drew in a deep breath. Slowly making my way up the porch, I reached Mother and slid myself into her extended arms, which were full of sparkling, shiny bracelets, glittering, gemmed rings, and the glass of scotch. Wrapping my own arms around her slender waist, I let the soft silk of her dress soothe me.

"Careful, Darling, you'll rumple my dress!" She carefully pushed me back. "Isabella, you've finally arrived!"

With her free hand, Mother patted my head, and then I heard a deep chuckle behind me before feeling a larger, stronger hand patting my head as well.

"Isabella, your mother and I are so thrilled to have you here with us for the summer."

I let go of Mother and turned to Papa Phil. He smiled at me, his eyes twinkling in a friendly manner.

"I'm very happy to be here." I stretched out my hand to shake his, as I'd been taught at Miss Tudor's, but he simply chuckled again and pulled me into him, hugging me tightly.

When he took two steps back, he revealed a young girl off to the side, sitting on an upholstered chair behind him. She appeared to be a couple of years or so older than I. Thin and pale, her light pink dress, though undeniably expensive and elegant, only seemed to wash the color from her face. She had a short, wavy, blonde bob she wore close to her scalp, but her features were rather bony, and the short, cropped hair only accentuated the sharpness of her nose and chin. Still, there was an air of sophistication to the way she held her chin, and I knew that I'd never manage to appear so put-together regardless of from where in Europe Mother had my clothing shipped.

The girl stood.

"Isabella, I'd like you to meet your sister, Lauren. She'll be spending every other summer here with us."

We both inclined our heads in greeting. "Pleased to meet you," we said in unison.

I'd known that Papa Phil had a daughter from his first of three marriages. Lauren was twelve years old and lived in California, as did her mother, though Lauren went to boarding school as I did.

"I'm so happy you'll be my sister." Lauren grinned sweetly.

"As am I," I said.

Once we took our seats, a young woman dressed in a black and white uniform brought me a glass of freshly-squeezed lemonade.

"Miss Isabella, would you like something to eat?"

"No, thank you," I smiled. Once she went back inside, Mother asked me about my trip, about my ride on the _21st Century Limited_ as well as on the _Union Builder. _She asked me if I enjoyed my accommodations, if I was afforded the care and respect rightfully mine as Phil's daughter, if I'd tried the delicious Baked Alaska in the _Union Builder's_ Dining Hall, if I'd noticed the gold fixtures inside my private bedroom and bathroom, and if I enjoyed the ride inside the Rolls Royce from Seattle to here.

She forgot to ask about Dad or about Uncle Billy and Jacob and the rest of the friends she'd left behind.

Eventually, Papa Phil cut into the conversation.

"Alright, Renee, I think it's time we give Isabella her surprise."

Mother rolled her eyes. "Oh, Phil, are you entirely sure about this? I'm honestly not good with those things."

"Don't worry, my darling," he said. "You won't have to have a thing to do with it."

As he spoke, a young man dressed in a tuxedo stepped out of the house holding a small, brown, wiggling being in his arms - with a red ribbon as big as its head tied around its neck.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

"A little birdie told me that you'd always wanted a puppy, but the house you'd lived in before was too small to accommodate one."

To this day, the moment that the young man deposited the puppy on my lap is probably still one of my happiest memories.

"Is she mine?" I asked.

"Yes," Papa Phil answered. "She's all yours."

I picked up the puppy and held her at eye level. She was as light as if I held a stuffed animal instead of a real, live dog, and she had a pair of big, floppy ears that twitched as she stared back at me.

"Now Isabella," Mother said, "You know how I feel about dogs. You'll have to promise to be responsible for her and make sure that I'm not required to look after her or pick up after her. Otherwise, she'll have to go."

I couldn't respond. I was too busy falling in love.

"I'm not very fond of pets either, Mother Renee," I vaguely recall hearing Lauren say. "I'm afraid I won't be able to share in my little sister's joy - though I'll certainly try."

"You're a bright and considerate child, Sweet Lauren," Mother answered.

"Of course Isabella will be responsible for her," Papa Phil answered for me. "She'll take complete care of her, won't you, Isabella?"

I nodded mutely. My puppy gazed at me, inclining her head as if wondering who I was and how I'd fit into her existence. Her ears twitched again, and she swiped at her eye with one paw, making me laugh aloud. She was light brown in color, but she had a huge, white spot smack in the middle of her forehead.

She was the most beautiful being I'd ever seen.

"What kind of dog is she?"

"She's a cocker spaniel," Papa Phil said.

"May I name her?"

"She's yours, Isabella. Unless you come up with a name for her, she'll be wandering around nameless as it seems that neither your mother nor your sister will have any advice on that front," Papa Phil said.

I studied my sweet, little puppy, stroked her soft skin, and nuzzled her nose against mine.

Mother made a soft noise of displeasure. "Isabella, please! Ugh!"

Papa Phil chuckled.

My puppy's fur was the color of sand - the same color of the sand I'd seen that time Papa Phil took Mother and me to the Hamptons on that fateful summer vacation last year.

"Sandy," I breathed. "She's so sandy."

"Sandy, like the dog belonging to that little orphan from the comics," Papa Phil said thoughtfully, studying me for a few seconds. He sighed. "Sandy is a very fitting name."

I stroked and kissed my puppy some more while Papa Phil laughed in a way I'd never really heard from him. Not one of those sad laughs, rather a carefree, fulfilled one.

We stayed out for a while longer, talking, though I honestly didn't contribute much to the conversation, taken as I was with my Sandy.

Then Mother stood. "All right then. Isabella, Mrs. Cope will take you to your room and show you around." Out of my periphery, I saw Mrs. Cope materialize by the door.

"You'll go to her if you should need anything," Mother said.

"Yes, Mother."

"And I mean it, Isabella. The dog must be kept away from me as much as possible and must not make a nuisance of itself, or else we'll have to get rid of it."

"Yes, Mother. I'll make sure she's not a nuisance."

"Very good." She smiled. "Go get yourself settled. I'll see you at suppertime."

"Yes, Mother."

As she walked inside, I watched her move with the grace of a swan that had finally found its real family.

After she left, Papa Phil stood. He looked down at me, hands stuck in his pockets, a full grin gracing his face. Papa Phil was eleven years older than Mother, but he was so very handsome that one would never know.

"I'm truly glad you're here, Isabella."

"Thank you, Papa Phil." And then I hastily added, "And thank you so very much for Sandy."

His grin grew. "It pleases me to know you're happy."

And then he walked inside, and as I stood to follow Mrs. Cope, who was waiting by the door, my eyes met those of Lauren, my new stepsister, and I smiled.

After a few seconds, she returned the smile, but as I'd recently learned that people could smile while being sad, it struck me at that moment that they could also smile while being angry.

OOOOOOOOOO

The next few days were a routine of waking and dressing in one of the fineries Mother had purchased for me during her winter trip to Paris – which had ended sooner than she'd expected due to a riot that had occurred. Afterwards, Papa Phil had ruined the rest of their holiday by insisting that they return to the States.

She had sent me a postcard telling me such.

After breakfast, it was time for my lessons. Mother had hired me a couple of tutors for the summer. Four times a week, after breakfast, I would receive a visit from Mr. Jones, who would continue the rigorous piano lessons I'd been taking at Miss Tudor's. After lunch, Madame Beauchamp would arrive for my intensive French lessons. Lauren, of course, had her own tutors for her own lessons.

After that, I was pretty much free and left to my own devices. I'd walk around the vast grounds of the estate, exploring and playing with Sandy in the often misty and rainy, yet warm weather. There were tennis courts, and Bocce and Croquet fields, and a golf course along with a large swimming pool - which I didn't dare enter. There was also a large, sturdy and very elegant swing set. By the end of the first week, Sandy and I had explored all over the grounds. I'd learned early in the week, on about my third day there, not to count on Lauren for sisterhood, companionship, or a playmate with whom to swing a tennis racket about.

Mother had received a visitor, one of the few women in town of any consequence as she later told me, a Mrs. Stanley, who had a daughter, about Lauren's age named Jessica. Mrs. Stanley and her husband owned the only mercantile store within fifty miles, which is where most people in the area had to go to purchase just about anything.

We'd all sat down for tea, and then Mother and Mrs. Stanley excused themselves as Mother wanted to show Mrs. Stanley the artwork that had just arrived that morning from London.

I was left alone with Lauren and Jessica.

Clearing my throat, I carefully set down my tea cup so that it wouldn't rattle over the china dish.

"Lauren, Jessica, have you both known each other long?"

I tried to use my friendliest voice, and Jessica opened her mouth to respond, but then she gave a startled jump - as if she'd been kicked under the table.

"Don't bother to answer her," Lauren said. "She hasn't yet realized that she won't be around for long. Once Daddy tires of her gold-digging, tramp of a mother, they'll both be back in that shack in Chicago where Daddy found them."

I opened my mouth to tell her that Mother and Papa Phil had actually met at the Waldorf-Astoria in New York, but quickly realized that was beside the point.

Then they began talking with each other as if I weren't there.

"…should see the dresses she brought me back, trying to buy my love," Lauren laughed.

"Mother does that with me all the time, and I daresay it works!" Jessica responded. They both giggled.

Jessica gasped suddenly. "Have you seen Masen and Edward yet?"

"No," Lauren grinned. "Why? Should I?"

I stood up and walked out without excusing myself.

OOOOOOOOOO

On the first day of July, 1934, I'd been in Washington for over a week.

Mrs. Cope would look for me around the house every couple of hours, asking me how I was doing, helping me with Sandy, making sure that I'd eaten, that my long hair was brushed and that my bow rested neatly atop my crown, and trying to teach me how to teach Sandy tricks. I didn't know much about caring for dogs, since I'd never had one before. Mostly I played with Sandy and let her run wild while Mrs. Cope warned me that I had to teach Sandy respect.

"Why don't you take another walk around the grounds?" She'd found me early in the afternoon swinging my legs back and forth off the porch, watching Sandy chew on the leg of the wooden porch-swing.

I shrugged. I knew it wasn't lady-like to do so, but in the past few days, I'd learned that Mrs. Cope would allow me to get away with certain things as long as I remembered my manners around Mother.

"Well, I'd tell you to come help me bake some bread, but I don't want you to get in trouble with your mother again for being in the kitchen."

I looked up in front of me, past the huge trees surrounding the property and listened to the sounds of the forest creatures as they sang their early afternoon songs.

"Why don't you do a little exploring off the grounds today, Isabella?" Mrs. Cope suggested.

"I don't want to get lost."

"You won't get lost," she smiled. "The Sol Duc River is a bit over a half mile north of here. It divides your stepfather's property from the nearest neighbors."

"We have neighbors?"

"Well, they're a bit of a ways off, and unless you're taking the roads, the only way to get to their property from here is by taking the small footbridge over the river. As long as you stay on this side of the river, you'll find your way back."

"What if Mother looks for me?"

"You've already had your lessons for the day," she said. "She won't look for you until suppertime."

I slowly stood up, straightening out my dress as I climbed down the steps.

Sandy followed me as I went.

OOOOOOOOOO

As I skipped through the thick, misty forest, I sang a radio tune to myself.

"_They asked me how I knew my true love was true…"_

Sandy skipped along next to me, jumping on my legs and nipping at my heels. So far, there wasn't much to see other than trees and bushes and bracken, but it was exhilarating nonetheless to be out there on my own. I pretended I was a princess or a maiden in one of those novels set in the ancient Celtic Moors, or on the foggy, English countryside. After a while, I removed my shoes, and sighed when I felt the soft, moist grass on my bare feet. I was Jane Clayton, Tarzan's lady love, lost in the wilds of Africa.

In the not-so-far distance, I heard the faint rustling of moving water and assumed it was the river of which Mrs. Cope had talked. Sure enough, after a few steps, I came across a clearing where the huge trees parted and revealed a long, narrow strip of water – the very end of Philip Dwyer's property. The river flowed eastward in a strong current, over protruding rocks and small waterfalls that emptied into the main body. A bit further down was a footbridge, only about five feet off of the water, and about fifteen or so feet long from end to end; it flowed over a particularly rockier though narrower section of river. The footbridge was constructed entirely of the wooden logs that were plentiful here.

"_I of course replied, 'something here inside cannot be denied…'"_

I walked towards the bridge, and then remaining on my stepfather's side, lowered myself to the wet and muddy logs, adjusting my dress in the back to cover my bottom so that I could sit cross-legged and finish my song while listening to the quiet rush of the waterfalls flowing into the river.

Sandy barked and barked at my singing, running back and forth, hopping around like a bunny and making me laugh.

That is, until quick as a flash, and before I even realized she'd done it, she hopped right off of the bridge.

"Sandy!"

I don't even remember standing or thinking or making any sort of conscious decision one way or the other. All I knew was that my Sandy had fallen into the river, and if something happened to her, my life would not be worth living.

The next thing I knew, I was in the water, and the cold sting of the river was biting at my skin, crawling up my legs and between the folds of my dress. A few feet away, I could see Sandy, floating with the current.

"Sandy!"

I tried to follow, but I slipped on a rock and in the next instant, I was under.

When I resurfaced, I barely managed a breath of air and a glimpse of Sandy – who appeared to be paddling for dear life – before I went under yet again.

My arms and legs flailed. My heart hammered in my chest. Some part deep inside of me knew that I was panicking, and that if I could just calm down for a few seconds, I might be able to keep myself afloat long enough to save Sandy's life – and mine.

But the water surrounded me, and all I could imagine was my sinking to the bottom, my lungs filling completely…my dad…crying and standing truly alone.

Then my hair caught on something. I screamed – which only managed to fill my mouth and lungs with even more water. Whatever I'd gotten snagged on – a low-hanging branch or possibly a switch in the way of the current - yanked my head up and out of the water.

But whatever my hair was caught on was moving, dragging me through the river. Then the branch let go of my hair and wrapped itself around my throat.

I choked and gagged.

The branch growled and loosened itself from my throat, instead grabbing my hair again. By now we were at the bank of the river, and the branch fisted my hair hard, depositing me without care or concern over wet and muddy earth, where I landed on my face.

Coughing and wheezing, I sat and wrapped my arms around my stomach, trying to stop every organ in my body from attempting to expel itself through my mouth. At the same time, something kept banging me on the back insistently, smacking me hard as I vomited out water and dirt.

"Is she gonna die?" someone asked. It sounded like a young girl.

"No, Dummy," a boy's young voice answered, the voice of the person currently smacking my back.

"If she were gonna die, she wouldn't be puking up all _that_!" Now this voice sounded similar to the boy's voice, but it came from further back, and it was lower; older.

"Should we go get your parents?" yet another voice asked.

"Nah," one of the voices carrying on a conversation around me said. "She'll be okay."

"Sandy," I said in a rough, hoarse voice, abruptly remembering my puppy. "Where's Sandy?"

I tried to stand up, but my legs gave out.

"Who's Sandy?" the girl asked. She knelt in front of me so that I could see her. She had short, black hair, blue eyes and a pretty face full of concern. "Is Sandy the dog?"

When I nodded, she pointed just to the side of me. "She's running around over there."

I turned my face, and sure enough, there was Sandy, wet as a mermaid but none worse for the wear.

Then I turned around completely.

The sun broke through the Washington clouds and shone directly onto the head of the boy behind me, making his red-brown hair glow like a halo against a backdrop of evergreen mountains and evergreen eyes. He was the one who'd dragged me out of the water. I knew this because he was dripping wet from the top of his short, cropped hair to the bottom of his corduroy overalls.

And he was scowling wildly.

"You big dope! What the heck made you jump in there like that?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thoughts?**

**AOI PLAYLIST Song #2: (What Bella was singing as she skipped through the woods):**

_**Smoke Gets in your Eyes (1933),**_** originally performed by Tamara Drasin for the 1933 Broadway musical, Roberta, but first recorded by Gertrude Niesen, with orchestral direction from Ray Sinatra – Frank Sinatra's second cousin. (The song has been covered by many since, most notably by The Platters in 1955): **

_**They asked me how I knew my true love was true.  
><strong>__**I of course replied, something here inside cannot be denied…**__**  
><strong>_

**Twitter: PattyRosa817**

**Link to 'Stories by Pattyrose' is on my profile page.**

**See you on Thursday. :)**


	4. Chapter 3 - The Cullens

**A/N: Thanks so much for your wonderful thoughts.**

**Betad by the great Michelle Renker Rhodes.**

**Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3 – The Cullens<strong>

"You big dope! What the heck made you jump in there like that?"

"I…I…" – the heavy and bitter taste the river water had left on my tongue made it hard for me to speak - "I was trying to save Sandy."

The wet, ruddy-headed boy narrowed his eyes. "The dog? Save her from _what_?"

"Save her from drowning, of course."

The boy stared at me, panting heavily while thick droplets trickled down his face and onto the wet grass. Sandy jumped onto my lap and licked the water off of my own cheeks.

"Listen here, don't you know a thing about dogs?" the boy asked.

Before I could respond that no, actually I didn't, the other, much taller boy chimed in.

"Dogs are better swimmers than humans. They're born knowing how to swim. We didn't even get her out of the water; she got out herself."

"Oh."

They all looked at each other then – and broke out into fits of laughter.

And I dropped my head to my soaked lap while I felt all the blood pool to my face.

"Stop, we're embarrassing her."

I looked up at one of the prettiest girls I'd ever seen: with short, blond bobbed hair that unlike Lauren's blond bob, was thick and full and framed the most classic, Hollywood-worthy features.

The girl with the black hair reached out and wrapped her hand around my shoulder.

"Hey, we're not laughing at you, we're laughing with you."

I would've liked to point out that in order to laugh with me, I would actually have to be laughing, but the tall boy knelt next to the black-haired girl and distracted me.

"How many fingers do I have up?" He lifted two fingers up in front of my face.

Frowning, my mind quickly noted the resemblance between both boys as well as the dark-haired girl, though both boys seemed to share similar hair and eye color while the girl had blue eyes. Still, all three appeared to have the same perfectly shaped and defined facial features – as if someone had slowly and methodically etched out their features with the most patient hand.

"Well?"

"Oh! Uhm, two?"

"Are you asking or telling me?" He pulled down my lower eyelid, then proceeded to move his finger back and forth, from left to right. "Follow my finger with your eyes."

I followed the direction of his finger with my eyes.

"What's today's date?"

"Uh…July first, 1934?"

"Are you asking or-"

"I'm telling you."

"Good. Who's the President?"

"Franklin Delano Roosevelt," I said confidently.

"And what's your name?"

"Isabella Marie Swa- Uh, Dwyer. Isabella Marie Dwyer."

And having answered that long set of questions, I wrapped Sandy in my arms and tried to stand again, ready to make my way back home where I could do my best to forget what I was already sure would be the most embarrassing moment of my life.

##########

"And was it the most embarrassing moment of your life, Nana?" Isabella smiles.

"Not by a long-shot," I smirk. "But when you're nine, it's easy to believe it's the end of the world. I had plenty more embarrassing moments, but we'll get to those," I assure her with a nod.

##########

Anyway, before I could reach a fully erect position, my knees gave out, and I fell on my bottom once more while the green and soggy world swayed before me.

"Whoa."

"I really think we should take her back home so that Pop can have a look at her," the dark-haired girl said. "She may have a concoction."

"That's concussion, you dope," the wet boy said.

"You're probably right," the tall boy agreed. "We should take her back to Pop."

They then all looked at the wet boy, very slowly and purposely, as if somehow, he held the answer to the world's dilemmas.

He in turn sucked his teeth and, turning around in a tight circle, fisted his short, dripping hair.

"Arrrgh!" he growled up at the sky, just as I'd imagined Tarzan would do. "Fine! Fine!"

With a curiously satisfied smile, the dark haired girl stood and wiped her hands on her dress. When she reached for my hand, I carefully and warily took it, cradling Sandy in my other arm as I stood. This time, I managed to keep my balance.

"Our pop is a doctor," the dark-haired girl said. "He'll be able to tell if you need to go to the hospital or something."

My eyes widened at that.

"Alice, now you're just scaring her!" the tall boy huffed. He stood too then and addressed me. "Look, you seem just fine, but like Pop says, 'it's better to be safe than sorry.' What if your lungs are full of water right now, and you choke to death in your bed tonight? You wouldn't want that, would you?"

I shook my head hastily. "No. No, of course not."

"All right then. It's settled." And with that, the tall boy walked to the blond girl and took her hand in his.

"Maybe you should carry her, Masen," the blond girl said. "Look at her legs shaking something awful! I don't think she'll be able to make the walk right now."

"You think so, Rosalie?" Tall Masen turned right back to me and took two steps forward.

I took two steps back. "I don't need to be carried."

"What if you pass out and hit your head?" Tall Masen asked.

"I don't need to be-"

Now The Wet Boy planted himself in between us.

"I'll carry her," he volunteered with a firm nod of the head. "I got her out of the water, I'll carry her."

##########

"That's so sweet!" Isabella squeals, clapping her hands. "Your hero offered to carry you!"

I purse my lips. "Now under different circumstances, this may have seemed a very chivalrous offer, but The Wet Boy stood stiff and angry, and he sounded none too happy at the prospect, more like he was volunteering for the draft and taking it like a man."

Isabella laughs heartily.

##########

"All right," Tall Masen agreed. He walked back to Blond Rosalie and took her hand again, walking off while The Wet Boy and I faced off.

"I don't need to be carried," I repeated clearly now that I'd gotten more of that river water out of my throat.

He simply turned around and hunching his shoulders, dropped his head.

"Get on."

I remember wondering if I was still in the middle of that river, being swept away by the current while my dying brain made up impossible scenarios because I was _not_ going to get on a strange boy's back so that he could carry me through the woods!

Or so I told myself for about ten seconds.

Setting Sandy down on the ground, I hesitantly approached the boy. When I reached out and wrapped my arms around his neck, he straightened up so swiftly that I gasped. Instinctively, my legs wrapped around his waist to keep from falling. He made a heaving sound as if he were picking up a sack of flour and grabbed my kneecaps, and I sucked in a sharp breath because he was wet and cold, and his soaking overalls were chilling my already wet skin to the bone.

Dark-haired Alice walked next to us while Sandy kept pace on our other side, wagging her tail happily, without a care in the world.

"So you're Philip Dwyer's new daughter?" Dark-haired Alice asked.

"Alice," Blond Rosalie admonished.

"What? I'm just asking!"

"Don't be nosy, Alice," Tall Masen said.

"Sorry," Dark-haired Alice said. "She's just not what I expected is all."

"What did you expect?" I asked.

"Someone more like Lauren," she laughed. "Or even Jessica!"

"You know Lauren?"

Dark-haired Alice rolled her eyes. "We gotta deal with her every other summer at the Independence Day barbecue her daddy throws. Ooh, sorry! I guess they're your daddy and sister now!"

"Papa Dwyer is my mother's new husband, but I already have a dad," I clarified. "And Lauren…well, Lauren isn't my sister."

Dark-Haired Alice bit her lip, as if she were really fighting to keep her mouth closed.

"I'm sorry if I was nosy," she finally said. "I've just never met someone whose parents are divorced."

The Wet Boy, on whose back I was currently being towed, opened his mouth

"Now you're just being a goof. We know people who've been divorced."

"Oh yeah? Like who?" Alice challenged.

"Like Mr. and Mrs. Johnson."

"They weren't divorced! They just had a big fight because he made googley eyes at Mrs. Stanley and Mrs. Johnson made him move out, but the next month they were back at church together, happier than two peas in a pod!"

"How do you know they were happy?" the boy asked.

"Because little Janey Johnson herself told me so in school one day."

Wet Boy stopped and rounded on Alice. Sandy stopped too, looking between them and wagging that tail, panting excitedly.

"You know what, Alice? You spend way too much time beating your gums. You need to learn to mind your own beeswax."

Alice curved her hands around her hips. "Edward, you're just crusty cuz you're gonna get your hide tanned but good when we get home and Mama and Pop see you all wet and-"

"Shut up!"

"I will not!"

"Yes, you will!"

"No, I won't!"

Obviously forgetting his load, the boy stalked over to Alice, and I wasn't sure whether to hold on tighter or let go.

"Yes, you will," the boy hissed, "or I'm gonna-"

"Both of you better stop before I take your heads and bang 'em together 'til they crack, and don't think I won't!" Tall Masen threatened from a few yards away.

The boy and the girl glared at each other for a few tense seconds before resuming their walk. I let go of the breath I'd been holding.

"By the way, I'm Alice, that's Masen, my brother, and our friend, Rosalie, and that's my other brother, _Edward_," she said, exaggerating his name with an eye roll.

"Hi," I said.

"Where are you from, Isabella?" Alice asked.

"From Chicago, but I live in New York now, at Miss Tudor's school."

"Chicago! Wow! Have you ever met Capone? Or Dillinger?"

"New York! What's it like living in New York?"

"Who's Miss Tudor?"

I attempted to address the questions in the order in which they'd been asked.

"I've never met any gangsters," I told Masen. "We actually lived on the outskirts of Chicago, and Mother wouldn't let us visit the city much. She said there was too much crime. She always liked New York more, so I suppose she's happy there now," I told Alice. And finally, "Mother and Papa Dwyer live on Park Avenue, but I'm not in the city, I'm in New Paltz, at Miss Tudor's. It's a school for girls," I told Rose.

Masen sucked his teeth, clearly disappointed by the lack of gangster meetings I'd had.

"But my Dad has taken me to the World's Fair in Chicago twice," I added.

Masen turned to look at me with a grin. "You've been to the World's Fair?"

"Yes. We saw cars from the future, exotic animals from Asia, and the Graf Zepellin."

"Cars from the future?" Now Masen sounded more than a little awed.

I nodded.

When he asked me about the types of cars I'd seen, I responded as best as I could remember. Then Rosalie and Alice asked me about the animals, and I told them about the Panda from China, and the Giraffe from Africa.

"You've seen the Zepellin?"

The question was asked quietly by the boy carrying me, barely loud enough for my ears, much less for those around us.

"Yes," I responded just as lowly.

"What was it like?" Edward practically whispered.

I described it to him as I remembered: its geometric shape, its silver color, and its fish-like tail. I told him how I could feel its engines vibrating.

"Wow." He whistled through his teeth, and I smiled, for some reason insanely happy I'd impressed _him_.

"And it was big," I continued. "So big it blocked out the sun in parts. Then when it landed, is was as big as two Wrigley Fields put together. They let us look around, but they didn't let us on, which Dad said was just as well because people don't belong in the skies like birds."

"Yes, they do," Edward contradicted, in a voice that though still low was full of conviction. "_I'm_ gonna fly someday." When he fell silent, I thought he was done. "Besides," he added after a few moments, "no way was it as big as two Wrigley Fields put together."

"Have _you_ seen it?" I asked.

"No."

"Have _you_ seen Wrigley Field?"

"No." He admitted after a begrudging beat.

"Then how do _you_ know?"

He didn't answer.

"How old are you, Isabella?" Alice asked.

"I'll be ten in two months."

"Pfft, she's only nine – practically a baby," Edward scoffed – loud enough for _all_ to hear.

The four of them stopped walking. Masen and Rose turned and looked at me. So did Alice. Then they looked at Edward and at one another once more, and I got the distinct feeling I was being measured up.

"I am _not_ a baby," I said as firmly as possible.

"She doesn't look like a baby," Alice finally agreed. "I mean she's kinda short but not much shorter than Edward anyhow."

"Yes, she is!" Edward countered.

"No, she's not! Set her down and you'll see!"

There was no warning when he let go of me, and therefore I ended up on my rear end over the muddy earth - again.

"Ow! Hey!"

Without any sort of apology, he reached out and helped me to my feet so quickly my teeth rattled. Then he stood so close that I could see every individual, copper eyelash framing his eyes, how they curved and fanned out around his large, green orbs. There was a fire burning in them, a heat I could feel seeping all the way down into the hand he still had wrapped around mine. I could see the way the color around his pink lips bled just a tiny bit into the edges, and the slight indentation smack in the middle of his chin.

It was also the first time I became acquainted with the dark, round birthmark on the left, underside of his jaw that would become so important to me one day.

And it was true enough, we were almost the same height. That summer, Edward Cullen had maybe an inch, an inch and a half on me.

He wasn't happy about it though – or ready to admit it.

"It's only because the ground here is uneven!"

Masen and Alice laughed aloud while Rosalie chuckled quietly.

Edward scowled and turned back around. "Get back on!" he said through clenched teeth.

"Thank you, but I think I'll walk the rest of the way."

He turned only his head then, looking at me sideways over his shoulder.

His hair was longer in the front, and a few strands fell across his forehead, blocking one eye. It reminded me of Mother last year and our trip to New York with her expensive hat with the netting that cost a week of my dad's salary and that covered one eye to lend her an air of mystery. She was quite aware of her effect.

Edward was just angry.

Strands of drying gold and red stuck up in random directions, and I could see that it was lighter than I'd first thought, much lighter than his brother's, and definitely lighter than his sister's black hair. Twelve-year-old Edward's hair was the color of leaves changing in the fall.

"You almost _drowned_," he said to me. "Get back on!"

And then he faced forward once more, taking two deep, obviously irritated breaths.

"Is she getting too heavy for you there, little brother?" Masen called out, snickering. "I can take over for the rest of the way home if she's too much for you."

"She's a skinny little thing, and she weighs less than the mountain air! Now get on!"

"Now don't go taking it out on her just because you're small for your age." Masen continued. "You know what Pop says. You'll grow when your bones are ready to grow."

"Get on," Edward hissed, ignoring his brother.

I got the distinct feeling that an unpleasant scene might erupt if I didn't climb back on Edward's back. So despite the fact that I really was no longer dizzy, I drew in a deep breath and once more wrapped my arms around his neck, after which he heaved himself up and grabbed me by the back of my knees again.

"Attaboy," Masen said, which Edward thankfully ignored. I remember wanting to tell Masen to stop, wanting to tell Edward that it didn't matter if he was small for his age because obviously he was pretty strong. I mean, he'd plucked me out of the river by himself, and now he'd carried me about a quarter of a mile on his back!

But instead, I said, "Don't call me a baby."

He didn't answer me anyway.

Alice came to walk next to us again.

"Don't mind Edward, he's just cross because he's in a heap of trouble when we get home. He wasn't supposed to be by the river today, and now he's all wet and he won't be able to deny where he was," she chuckled

"Oh."

I felt horribly guilty. If I hadn't been so dumb about dogs and their swimming habits, I wouldn't have jumped in after Sandy, and Edward wouldn't have been forced to jump in after me to prevent an unpleasant drowning.

"I'm sorry," I murmured.

"Not your fault," he said none-too-convincingly.

"Why weren't you supposed to be by the river?" I asked.

"He was punished for fightin' at Sunday school again," Alice responded for him. "Garrett Smith made fun of how short he is, and Edward punched him in the nose before kicking him right in the-"

"Why don't you shut up, Alice?"

"Why don't you make me, Edward?"

"I mean it," Masen warned. "Both of you shut it."

"Anyway, the four of us don't play with babies," Alice continued, "which we consider anyone under ten, but being you're almost ten, it's good enough."

"Thank you," I said. "How old are all of you?"

"I'm eleven," Alice answered. "Rose and Masen are thirteen, and Edward just turned twelve."

"I didn't _just_ turn twelve," he disagreed.

"You turned twelve last week, Edward," she said.

"It wasn't last week. It was almost two weeks ago now."

"Ooh, you're right. That was a _looong_ time ago," she teased.

This time, I couldn't help chuckling, but when Edward's shoulders stiffened under me once again, I stopped.

I cleared my throat. "Is it much further?"

It would be supper time soon, and I had to get home and change or else Mother would be upset about the state of my dress. What's more, we'd already wandered about a half mile from the river, in the opposite direction from which I'd approached it. That put me at over a mile or so from home. I wasn't so sure I'd be able to find my way back, especially once it got dark.

Alice pointed ahead of us, past Rose and Masen – who'd abruptly let go of each other's hands - and at a cluster of short trees standing sentry a few feet away.

"No. We're practically there. It's just past those trees."

When we broke through the trees and into a clearing, the first thing I saw was a much larger tree just before us. My eyes traveled up and up and up, my neck straining as I tried to see where the branches would finally end and the sky begin.

"It's an evergreen, but the kind that usually grows higher up on the mountains," Edward said, I supposed having noticed me studying the tree. "Down here, it's an anomaly. Do you know what an anomaly is, Little Girl?"

I bristled at his tone.

"An anomaly is something that deviates from what's normal or standard. It's something different from what you'd expect. Something that may not belong where it is."

He was quiet for a moment. "That's right," he then said, surprise tinging his voice. I smiled smugly to myself.

We passed the huge evergreen and the tire-swing hanging from it as we walked down a long, dirt road that wound right past a small, fenced-in corral and an equally small, red barn. There was a noisy hen coop with a few hens squawking about here and there. It all led to a worn, warm-looking white house, where the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen stood out on a porch, shielding her eyes from the late afternoon sun.

"Mama!"

Alice launched herself towards the house while her mother took the few steps down and picked her up, swinging her around and kissing her cheek soundly. When Rose and Masen approached, the woman reached out and caressed Rose's cheek before tousling Masen's hair.

Edward stopped in front of her.

"Where have you been, Edward?" the woman asked, though by the way she took in his appearance, and from the slight smirk she gave him, it was obviously a rhetorical question. Her eyes – the same shade as his – moved to me.

"Mama, it was my fault," Masen said before Edward could provide an answer. "I told Edward to come with us to the river, and then the girl fell in and Edward went in after her and-"

The woman's expression changed from wry amusement to urgency.

"Are you all right, child?" When she cupped my cheek, her hand felt as soft as what I'd imagined clouds to be.

"I checked her, but thought it would be best if Pop checked her good and proper," Masen said.

The woman nodded. "Good thinking, Masen. Go fetch your father from the back. Edward, take her inside."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Masen went around the side of the house, and Edward climbed the porch steps, walking us through the screen door. Inside, I found myself in a living room with faded furniture, yet clean and tidy.

"Put her on the couch, Edward," his Mama instructed. "Alice, go get your father's bag."

Edward turned around, releasing his hold on my knees, whereby I released my hold around his neck and fell to the couch, a much softer landing than I'd had in the past hour or so. Alice ran into another room, and Rose took a seat at the end of the couch. Sandy sat on her back paws in front of me.

Not five seconds later, Masen walked in from the back of the room, accompanied by a man with Alice's dark hair and blue eyes. Alice returned with a big, black bag which she placed in front of her dad.

He nudged Edward out of the way. "Take the dog, and tell me what happened." He took my arm and placed two fingers on the inside of my wrist while Edward told the story.

"We were walking towards the river, Sir, and I heard a girl scream. When I got there, she was in the water, head under, so I jumped in and got her out."

Edward's father nodded while he repeated many of the steps that Masen had by the river.

"Follow my finger."

I did – again.

"How long were you in the water before my son found you?"

I wasn't really sure. Edward spoke up again.

"It wasn't long. I heard the splash when she went in, but I got to her quick."

"You know how fast Edward is, Pop. Couldn't a' been more than a few seconds," added Masen.

Their father nodded again. "Can't you swim, Sweetheart?"

"Not very well, sir."

Their father turned, and from his bag, he pulled out an instrument I'd seen before during doctor's visits. I was asked to breathe, to stare into the light, and had a little hammer tapped against my legs.

Apparently satisfied, the doctor took a deep breath and sat back on his legs, smiling pleasantly at me.

"What were you doing in the river if you can't swim?"

Once again, I felt my face flaming as I recalled the laughter by the river. I dreaded having to hear it once more, but it was more than that. If Mother found out that I'd followed Sandy in…that I'd ruined my dress while trying to save Sandy…

Masen snorted. "Would you believe it? She went in after her-"

"She fell in."

I looked up sharply.

Edward was looking at me, but he shifted his gaze quickly to his father as he continued.

"She'd been playing near the footbridge and slipped and fell in."

I stared at him, and for one moment, as our eyes met once more, I remember wondering how he knew, how he'd seen through me that way.

It was the first time he knew, without words, exactly what I needed.

It wouldn't be the last.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thoughts?**

**AOI Playlist Song #3:**

_**Love in Bloom**_** by Bing Crosby (1934) - though it later became the theme song for Jack Benny.**

_**Can it be the trees that fill the breeze with rare and magic perfume?  
><strong>__**Oh no, it isn't the trees, it's love in bloom!**__**  
><strong>_

**Twitter: PattyRosa817**

**Link to 'Stories by Pattyrose' is on my profile page.**

**Have a great weekend!**


	5. Chapter 4 Independence Day Barbecue

**A/N: As always thanks so much for your lovely thoughts. :)**

**Betad by the wonderful Michelle Renker Rhodes.**

**Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4 – Independence Day Barbecue <strong>

Mrs. Cullen took me upstairs so that I could change into some of Alice's dry clothes. She gave me some clean undergarments and a green, wrap-around, apron dress that fit a bit loose because I was so much smaller than Alice. Then she carefully bandaged the scrapes I'd gotten on my legs from the underwater rocks, stroking my hair and my arms as she tended to me so that the dark iodine wouldn't sting too much. We headed back downstairs just as Doctor Cullen was returning the telephone receiver back to its cradle on the wall.

"Isabella, I've let your stepfather know what happened. He and your mother will be here shortly."

"Why don't you girls set the table, and we'll have supper while we wait for Isabella's parents?" Mrs. Cullen suggested.

So Alice, Rose and I set the table, and Doctor Cullen led us all in a suppertime prayer like Dad used to do when I was Isabella Swan and lived in Chicago. He thanked the Lord for what they had, for his family's health, and for new friends. Then we ate nice, hot bowls of corn soup and fricasseed chicken with broiled tomatoes, and I marveled at conversations about subjects other than banks, railroads and the latest fashions.

Afterwards, while Masen and Edward walked Rose home, Alice and I sat in the living room listening to Benny Goodman and playing with Sandy.

"We used to have a dog 'til a few months ago," Alice said, stroking behind Sandy's ear, which made Sandy purr more like a kitten than a puppy.

"Really?"

"Mhm. He died of bone sickness."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Alice shrugged. "He was a German Shepherd; you know, one of those big dogs? Edward named him Arrow."

"Arrow?"

"Mhm. Because he was fast."

"Oh."

Sandy abruptly picked her head up and barked, her floppy ears twitching fiercely. Then footsteps on the porch preceded a knock and more barking.

Calmly, Mrs. Cullen set down her knitting, and Doctor Cullen set down his newspaper and drew in a deep breath - the first of many deep breaths I'd see him take when dealing with the Dwyers.

When Doctor Cullen opened the door, Mother walked right past him and Mrs. Cullen. I recall feeling both surprised and elated at her rush to get to me, at a concern so great that it would cause her to completely forget her manners!

"Isabella, my goodness, you look horrendous! What in the world are you wearing?"

"I fell in the river. Edward Cullen saved me, and Alice Cullen lent me a dry dress."

"Your hair!" she exclaimed in horror. "It's an absolute fright! Come here, let me do something about those knots! Where's your dress?"

"Her dress needs washing and mending, Mrs. Dwyer," Mrs. Cullen said gently. "I'll take care of it and-"

Mother didn't turn around to look at Mrs. Cullen. "Thank you, but Isabella's dress is very delicate, and I'd prefer for our personal seamstress to handle it."

"Of course," Mrs. Cullen responded.

Doctor Cullen cleared his throat. "I've examined Isabella, and other than for a couple of small scrapes that we've bandaged, she's just fine."

"I believe a doctor would be better suited to say whether my daughter is alright or not. Isabella, hold still!" Mother said, impatiently licking her thumb and frowning as she tried to wipe something off of my face.

"I _am_ a doctor, Mrs. Dwyer. I'm a vet, Ma'am."

Mother turned around slowly. "A vet, Sir?"

"Yes, Ma'am. A veterinarian. That is, an animal-"

"I know very well what a veterinarian is, Sir. Do you expect me to accept treatment for my _human_ daughter from an animal doctor?"

Doctor Cullen's mouth twitched. "I assure you, Mrs. Dwyer, I'm quite capable of treating humans as well. I've been doing it for years. And my wife is quite capable as well. Many of our neighbors come to us for medical attention and-"

She held his gaze. "This is a farm, isn't it, Doctor Cullen?"

There was a beat of silence, and then a quiet sigh.

"Yes, Mrs. Dwyer. I'm a farmer as well as a veterinarian."

"_Doctor_ Cullen, I mean no disrespect, but I'm sure you'll understand why I'd prefer to have Isabella examined by a _real_ doctor."

Doctor Cullen's calm expression didn't waver. "Of course, Ma'am."

"Another examination won't be necessary."

Papa Phil had been standing by the door. He removed his hat before walking into the house, tall and regal in his dark suit. He nodded his greetings towards Doctor and Mrs. Cullen, and then carefully nudged Mother aside, kneeling in front of me.

"How do you feel, Isabella?"

"I feel just fine, Sir."

"Any broken bones?" A teasing smile spread across his face, making his thick mustache twitch.

"No, Sir," I chuckled, "no broken bones."

"That's good to hear." He held my gaze thoughtfully for a few seconds, and with his eyes still on me, he said, "Carlisle and Esme have both been the providers of medical attention around these parts for years, Renee. Carlisle is university trained, and Esme comes from a long line of healers. Everyone trusts them, including myself. No, another exam won't be necessary. Isabella may be small, but she's a strong girl. Besides, falls, scrapes and near drownings are all part of growing up."

"Perhaps Doctor and Mrs. Cullen are capable healers here in the mountains of Washington, and perhaps falls and scrapes are part of growing up here in the middle of nowhere," Mother answered tightly, "but back in New York City, where we _should_ be spending the summer, things are very different."

Papa Phil stood to his full height, which was an impressive one, I'll tell you. He turned to Mother with a smile, but it was one of those aforementioned strange smiles – one of those smiles that wasn't really a smile at all.

"Things are certainly different in New York City, Darling, which is why we're here for the summer, not there. And here, Isabella could not have fallen into better hands. Here, every child has the opportunity to run wild; the opportunity to fall and get right back up again. It's what I did as a child, and it's what my children _will_ have the opportunity to do as well."

There was no room for dispute in Papa Phil's tone. Mother blinked profusely, but otherwise didn't respond.

With a smile still on his face, Papa Phil turned back to Doctor Cullen.

"Where are the boys, Carlisle?"

"They're walking the Hale girl back home."

Papa Phil nodded. "You'll be coming to the Independence Day Barbecue?"

Once again, I thought I saw Doctor Cullen release a small sigh. "Of course, Philip. We're there every year, aren't we?"

Once more, Papa Phil nodded. Both men held each other's gazes for a few seconds, but it wasn't until many, many years later that I could even begin to guess what was going through either's mind.

When Papa Phil finally turned to Mrs. Cullen, the smile he'd been wearing for the past couple of minutes seemed much more genuine. He gave her a small bow.

"Have a good night, Esme. And thank you…both...very much for tending to Isabella."

"It was our pleasure. Good night, Philip."

Once more, he turned to Mother. "Renee, Darling, I believe once you thank Carlisle and Esme for taking care of our daughter, we'll be ready to go."

Mother held his gaze - her nostrils flaring slightly - and then grabbed my hand.

"Isabella, thank Doctor and Mrs. Cullen."

"Thank you so much, Doctor and Mrs. Cullen," I smiled.

"You're very welcome, Child," Mrs. Cullen responded tenderly.

Then Mother pulled me towards the door. "Come along, Isabella. Let's go."

OOOOOOOOOO

The next day, we had visitors. One of Papa Phil's business partners and his family, who had come over from New York City, would be spending the week with us.

The Vandernecks were what I'd later learn were known as, "old money."

Mother flitted around nervously that morning, directing her servants to clean and re-clean, moving furniture and fixtures, and generally turning the entire estate upside down.

If I remember correctly, Mrs. Vanderneck was in her mid-fifties at the time: a tall, full-figured woman who looked pretty comical standing next to her much shorter and much thinner husband. As I'd later find out, she and Mr. Vanderneck had tried for ages to have a child, and in their early forties, they had finally been blessed in the form of Peter William Vanderneck, a gift from God himself, and a child who could do no wrong. Peter was a tall, slim thirteen-year-old, who personified his Dutch heritage with hair so platinum it was almost white and eyes as blue as the sky.

Now having been given permission to run wild by my stepfather, I was less than eager to spend more than the necessary time indoors with Peter Vanderneck, but Mother, unfortunately, had other ideas.

"Isabella, why don't you and Lauren show Peter around the grounds?"

"Isabella, why don't you and Lauren show Peter the model train set your father has set up in the game room?"

"Isabella, why don't you and Lauren sit next to Peter so that you can keep him company during supper?"

All these forced activities Peter bore with the grace of a martyr: barely saying a word to either one of us, rolling sky blue eyes at everything, and making no effort to disguise his level of dissatisfaction. To his credit, he didn't treat Lauren any better than he treated me; rather, he treated us both with the equal indifference and disdain we deserved as part of the "_nouveau riche._"

Though Peter's apathy was fine by me, it didn't sit well with Lauren. She batted her eyelashes, giggled sweetly, described her expensive dresses and her huge home in California to him in minute detail, to which he showed no outward sign of having heard – or cared.

The morning of Independence Day, Mother was in yet another uproar. It would be her first time hosting the annual Independence Day Barbecue that Papa Phil held every year here in Washington for both business associates from Washington as well as the town folk of Forks.

"It's our chance to show everyone just how lucky and blessed we are!" she told me.

So with all the yelling and screaming going on that morning, no one seemed to hear the doorbell ringing.

When I answered, Alice Cullen was on the other side, holding up the white, patent leather shoes I thought I'd lost by the river, as well as my dress – which had been mended, freshly washed and pressed.

"Thank you," I said, taking the items from her.

"Want to go play?"

I looked behind me at the rest of the people who lived and worked here scurrying about anxiously, and I thought perhaps it would be best for all if Sandy and I made ourselves scarce until the barbecue.

"Yes."

OOOOOOOOOO

We ended up by the river, where I was surprised to see Rose and Masen wading in the water. Masen was shirtless, with his trousers folded up to his thighs, and Rose wore a red, one-piece that came to her mid-thighs.

"Where is Edward?" I asked.

"He's punished – again," Alice snorted, and then without pause added, "Do you want to go in?"

Despite everything, I considered it; I really did. You're invincible at that age; danger is only an abstract idea. So it wasn't the fear of death that kept me out. It was the recollection of how cold I'd been inside that river.

"I'd better not. I can't swim very well –as you know," I grinned.

"The river is much calmer today, and we can teach you to swim," Rose offered.

"No, but thank you. I promised my dad I'd wait for him to teach me when I return to Chicago before the end of the summer."

With a shrug, Alice stripped to her camisole and underwear and jumped into the water, and I sat with my legs hanging off of the small footbridge. The cool, river water splashed against my legs and all the while, we talked and laughed while Sandy hopped in and out of the water like a mermaid. It was a wonderful couple of hours.

"Why haven't you gotten another dog?" I asked Masen and Alice.

"Arrow was mostly Edward's dog," Masen said. "He's the one who trained him; he used to sleep in his room, and…well, he's dead set against another dog."

After a while, Alice got out of the river and came to sit with me. Her short, black hair stuck up wildly as it dried.

"Is she his sweetheart?" I asked, jerking my chin towards Rose and Masen, who were in the water giggling and splashing each other.

"Yup, but none of the adults know, so you can't say anything, okay?"

"Okay, but why?"

"Because they're only thirteen, and her mama doesn't want her having babies too young, like she did."

"Oh."

OOOOOOOOOO

I remember the exhilaration I felt the first time I swung on the tire-swing under the evergreen by the Cullen's house. Soaring so far above the ground, with majestic green mountains before me, the insistent breeze on my back, blowing my hair into my face and making me scream, I was sure I'd reach those mountains if only I swung just a bit harder. And I tried. I tried for years.

##########

"Was it this tire-swing, Nana?" Isabella asks, pushing herself to and fro on the swing while the afternoon breeze whips up her beautiful, long hair.

"Well, now if I answered that, we'd be getting ahead of ourselves in the story, wouldn't we?" I say.

She laughs. "Okay, Nana. Please continue."

##########

Alice and I played by the swing, but then she had to go use the bathroom, and when five minutes turned to ten, I decided to go look for her.

As I neared the house, I heard saxophones and trombones coming from somewhere behind. With Sandy at my heels, I searched for the source of these sounds, which led me through a set of doors that led to the rear of the house.

The bright room smelled faintly of alcohol, cleaning agents, wet fur and animal feces. It had about a dozen cages all around the walls, mostly small and medium-sized, but a couple that appeared big enough to hold a cow or a small pony. In one of the small cages, there was a grey cat, its furry chest rising and falling with each sleepy breath. Two of the medium sized cages on the floor each held dogs, also asleep.

Edward had half of his body inside one of the empty cages - scrubbing hard and whistling away to the beat of the radio music.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

Edward rose up quickly - apparently forgetting that his head was inside a cage. The ensuing thud was quite loud - and pretty painful sounding.

"Damn!"

The oath woke the cat, who hissed and meowed its disapproval. The two dogs began barking and howling in unison, and Sandy, at my heels, insisted on joining in on the melee.

It was quite the chorus.

Removing himself from the cage, Edward turned around, rubbing his head. His bright, green eyes grew wide, and his face flushed an irritated shade of burgundy. Quickly walking to the cat's cage, he spoke firmly.

"Down! Quiet!"

He walked to each cage and repeated the command, and soon, the barking and meowing stopped.

Sandy, now in my arms, calmed down as well.

"I'm sorry," I said, once the animals were settled. "I didn't mean to startle you."

He barely spared me a sideways glance. Walking off to a corner, he knelt and proceeded to rinse off his sponge in a bucket of what appeared to be soapy water.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for Alice and thought she might be in here. What are you doing?"

Squeezing off the excess soapy water from his sponge, he looked up, and I remember being struck by just how green his eyes were.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm cleaning cages."

"Is this part of your dad's office?"

He nodded, looking around. "This is where we keep the sick animals that have to stay overnight."

I approached the occupied cages. "What's wrong with them?" Reaching out, I stroked the soft mane of one of the resting dogs.

Edward stood again. "Well, that dog hurt his paw on a sharp piece of wood. We bandaged it up good, but he's running a bit of a fever so we've got to keep an eye on him. And that dog needs to be dewormed, and don't touch that cat!"

I'd been just about to stroke the cat, but now quickly pulled back my hand.

Edward laughed. "That dumb cat wandered out into the woods and was stupid enough to get into a fight with something very angry. We're waiting to see if he's rabid." He kept laughing, holding his stomach.

"Is this part of your punishment?" I asked.

That put a stop to his laughter. "How'd you know I was punished?"

"Alice told me."

"Figures," he smirked, "beating her gums again." He walked back to the cage he'd been cleaning before.

"Why are you punished?"

Edward shrugged and kept scrubbing.

"Do you have to clean all of these?"

"Yup."

"Do they smell bad?"

"Yup."

"Do you have another rag?"

This gave him pause. "What for?" he asked suspiciously.

"So that I can help, of course."

He turned to look at me again. "Now why in the world would a little girl like you want to help clean a bunch of dirty, stinkin' cages?"

"Because it's my fault that you're here."

For a few seconds, he simply stared at me.

"Listen here, Little Girl, I'm cleaning these cages because I punched a stupid kid in the mouth for saying something stupid, see? It ain't got nothing to do with you."

I placed my hands on my hips, the way I'd seen Mother do often.

"Punching that boy was what first got you in trouble, but then you were forbidden from going to the river, and you went anyway, yet your parents would've been none the wiser had you not jumped into the river to save me from drowning. So you see, it's my fault that on the day of our nation's independence, you're cleaning cages instead of enjoying what seems to be a rare, sunny day in these parts."

There was more staring done on his part.

"How old did you say you were again, Little Girl?"

"Almost ten, and I'd appreciate it if you stopped calling me Little Girl."

He quirked a ruddy brow. "You want to help? All right, fine. But that dog needs to stay out of the way or else you're both out of here."

He made a grand, sweeping motion of invitation, and I moved towards the corner where the buckets of soapy water and extra rags awaited.

OOOOOOOOOO

We spent the next couple of hours scrubbing and cleaning animal cages while listening to Leo Reisman and Bing Crosby. Alice had eventually found me and begrudgingly joined in the scrubbing. Meanwhile, Sandy stayed out of trouble by playing with the rags, dragging them from one end of the room to the other. Every so often, Edward would sneak a wary peek at her.

As for me, I snuck my own curious peeks – at Edward. He was short for his twelve years, yes. _I_ was petite for my age, and that summer, Edward was barely an inch above me. Yet there was maturity in his face, an intensity that hinted of strength, even then. He wore a white tee shirt and a pair of old, folded up slacks, and as young as he was, I could see he lacked the softness in his arms and legs that most boys his age had. His arms were lean and sinewy; the veins in his hands and forearms protruded as he scrubbed. And though he obviously wasn't happy about his punishment, he scrubbed those cages until they shined.

"Well, there's only one cage left. Let's go, Isabella!"

Alice dropped her rag and ran out, knocking down one of the empty cages in her haste. Metal crashed against concrete, making a resounding racket that vibrated for a handful of seconds and woke the sick and injured pets – again. The chorus of animal howls went up once more.

Edward sucked his teeth and flung his rag across the room.

"Damn little girls," he complained, once again attempting to quell the ensuing unrest.

"Well, that's not a nice thing to say at all," I said defensively.

He didn't respond, and in less than a minute, he had the animals settled again.

"You're good with them. Are you going to be a vet like your dad?"

He snorted. "And get stuck here for the rest of my life? No, Siree. I've got bigger and better plans."

I was about to ask what those plans were when Alice called my name from outside - loudly.

"Go on. She's waiting for you."

I don't know why I hesitated. All I knew was that I didn't really want to go despite the fact that my arm ached from all the scrubbing, and that it still didn't smell like roses and chocolate in there.

"Are you coming to my house later for the Independence Day Barbecue?"

"I suppose," he responded. He was kneeling by the buckets again, cleaning out all the rags we'd used. "We go every year so that rich, old Mr. Dwyer can show off all his millions."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I turned to leave.

"Hey, Little- I mean, _Isabella_?"

I turned around.

"Thanks…for helpin.'" He shrugged.

My ensuing grin was as wide as could be. "You're welcome. See you later!" And just as Alice yelled my name again, I ran out of there.

OOOOOOOOOO

Mrs. Cope had been waiting for me when I got home. She thanked the Lord that I hadn't been drowning somewhere before quickly ushering me to my room to bathe and dress. She seemed pleased when I told her I'd been with the Cullens.

"Ah, I'm glad to know you've made friends with the neighbors, Isabella."

I was given a deep red, pleated skirt to wear along with a white blouse that had a blue collar. She brushed out my long hair, taking her time with each section despite how late she claimed we were. Then she carefully tied in a red ribbon.

"Mrs. Cope, back at school and here, almost all the girls have short hair, even Alice."

Mrs. Cope set the brush down and turned me to face her. "Child, you have the most gorgeous head of hair I've ever seen. Even prettier than your mama's," she whispered. "It would be a sin to cut it off."

"That's what my dad says," I smiled.

Mrs. Cope turned me around and stroked my cheek. "You're a lovely child, Isabella. Don't ever forget that."

The Dwyer Independence Day Barbecue was a town event. Everyone in Forks was invited, and everyone seemed to be in attendance that summer - my first summer there.

Mother wore a beautiful, white pleated skirt, similar to my red one. She looked elegant and refined in her red, silk blouse, and her necklace of what I would later recall as blue sapphires, huge and flawless.

She was the perfect hostess to all, proud to be Mrs. Dwyer and even prouder to be the mistress of everything around us as far as the eye could see. Papa Phil stood majestically at her side, tall and dignified in his three-piece suit. Lauren, in her blue, pleated skirt, and I stood as two sisters with them. We were the perfect, wealthy American family.

When the Cullens finally arrived, I ran straight to them. But I made other friends too, children that would surround me for the next few summers of my life…Jessica, Tyler, Michael, Rebecca, Garrett, and…so many more whose names and faces are now a blur.

As the sun set, daylight faded into a smoky evening lit by torches and lamps. Fireflies abounded like fallen stars. We chased and ran after them while Sandy chased after us. Even Peter, in all his nobility joined in; though tall and lanky, he appeared to have a hard time catching fireflies.

"Isabella, why don't you catch one for Peter," Mother suggested. She stood off to the side with Papa and a couple of other friends, sipping from their glasses.

I caught one and Peter hunched down so that his clasped hands met mine, and I carefully put it inside his palms. We watched it glow on and off, like a beautiful lantern.

"Isn't that lovely, Peter?" Mother asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Dwyer," Peter responded. Then without a word, he dropped his hands and walked away. I quickly caught the firefly so that I could hold her between my palms for just a few more seconds, and I was so spellbound that I only vaguely heard the tail end of Papa Phil's sentence:

"…too young for you to be match-making…" he chuckled.

Mother laughed again, yet with all the other noises around, I only heard, "…never too young to make the right connections, Darling."

It meant nothing to me at the time. Oh I know the meaning is obvious now. But remember, I was barely ten at the time. The only thing that struck me as odd was the deep frown on Edward's face.

You see, he'd come to look at the firefly buzzing about between my palms.

OOOOOOOOOO

As night fell, the liquor flowed freely, the neighborhood and friends indulged in treats that most of them could barely afford at the time, and the laughter grew louder.

Then it was time for the fireworks Papa Phil had shipped from New York. Red, white and blue exploded in the night sky, raining down on us and making Alice and I squeal in delight. The boys ran around trying to catch the falling sparkles, and Sandy ran along with them while the girls and I watched from the large swing-set, set far enough back so that we wouldn't burn to death yet close enough that every explosion rumbled through our hearts.

We screamed with every burst and flare, marveling at the inferno in the sky, so that between the loud eruption of rockets, the band, and the beating of my heart, I failed to realize that some of the screams came from adults screaming in horror.

"Edward's fightin' again!" someone said, and forgetting the airborne display of national glory, we all took off running.

He was on top, pummeling his opponent while Doctor Cullen struggled to wrap his arms around his son's waist.

"Edward, enough!" Carlisle roared, yet it took both him and Masen to finally get Edward off of Peter.

The fireworks ended, the band stopped playing, and the neighbors stopped drinking.

Mr. Vanderneck pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his son's bloodied nose while Mrs. Vanderneck stroked his head and cried.

"What in the world has gotten into you, Son?" Carlisle yelled.

When Tarzan was a boy, had he had green eyes, copper hair and worn grass-stained grey trousers and a muddied white, button down instead of a flimsy piece of material around his privates, I'm sure he would've looked just as Edward did in that moment: A wild boy. Face flushed, nostrils flaring, and hands fisted at his sides while he glared murderously at Peter.

But he didn't answer Doctor Cullen, and when Mr. Vanderneck asked Peter the same question, he received the same lack of response.

In the end, no amount of questioning produced any sort of response from either boy.

Doctor Cullen grabbed Edward by the collar and turned him around.

"Apologize to Mr. Dwyer for fighting at his party."

Edward remained silent.

"I said apologize!"

"I apologize," Edward gritted through his teeth.

"And apologize to the boy for-"

"I ain't apologizing to him."

There was a finality to the statement that made Mr. and Mrs. Vanderneck gasp and Carlisle clench his jaw.

"I apologize for my son's behavior. I don't know what got into the boy."

"Boys will be boys," Papa Phil said.

"Yes, well," Doctor Cullen responded, sounding quite uncomfortable. "I'll be taking my boys home now. Masen, please gather your mother and sister and meet us in the front."

And without another word, Doctor Cullen marched Edward out of our backyard barbecue, and I stared after him in the darkness while the light from the torches and fireflies illuminated him in a red glow.

When he turned around, he met my gaze for about two seconds before Doctor Cullen shook him and forced him to face forward.

Then he was out of sight.

"What do you think they were fighting over?" I asked Alice before she left.

"Same thing Edward always fights over. Peter probably made fun of his height."

And for the rest of the evening, I wondered how in the world that fight had started when we'd all been having so much fun.

It wasn't until much, much later that I found out that had been the first time Edward fought to defend me.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thoughts?**

**AOI Playlist Song #4: **_**The Very Thought of You**_** by Ray Noble & His Orchestra**

_**The very thought of you and I forget to do  
><strong>__**The little ordinary things that everyone ought to do.**__**  
><strong>_

_*****_**The next chapter will be the final 1934 chapter. We needed to set a foundation. :)**

**IMPORTANT NOTE:**

***** Thursday is Thanksgiving, and as I'm sure most you will be doing, I'll be eating, laughing and fighting with my extended family. Therefore, there will be no update this Thursday. I'll see you guys bright and early on Monday though!*****

**HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!**


	6. Chapter 5 - My Hero

**A/N: Thank you so much for your thoughts.**

**Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes**

**Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5 – My Hero <strong>

The Vandernecks' returned to New York a few days later, no worse for their sojourn into the mountains of Washington save for the black eye and swollen lip Peter would be sporting for a few more days. Mother apologized for her barbaric neighbors all the way to the door.

Nevertheless, you'd think being slugged by Edward would've negatively affected Peter's attitude towards Forks all the more, but quite the opposite was true. Peter appeared to accept his time in Forks much more gracefully afterwards. He still tended to stay close to his father, yet he joined me in the back yard more than once and even played with Sandy a bit, attempting to help me teach her tricks; though neither of us got very far with that.

Go figure.

Yet I still couldn't put the image of the fight that had occurred under the burning sparks of the fireworks out of my mind. I'd considered asking Peter about it, but then I decided that if I ever did hear the story, I'd want it to be from Edward.

The Vandernecks' finally did leave, and the following day, after my lessons, I made it to the river and to my friends – minus Edward. This time, I didn't need to ask why. I assumed he'd be cleaning cages for the foreseeable future.

So for the next few days, we played by the river, and Masen - who absolutely loved animals and who, unlike Edward, _was_ planning on taking over his father's vet practice once he got older – was the next one to try to help me teach Sandy to sit, roll over, and stay, and just generally be an obedient dog.

After another failed dog training session, Masen shook his head.

"Little Sister," – he'd taken to calling me the same thing he called Alice - "either your dog is the dumbest dog in creation, or I'm doing something seriously wrong here. And if it's the latter, please keep it quiet, or I'll never make it into veterinary school."

Choosing to believe the latter, I agreed to keep it quiet.

And so Sandy continued to run wild.

One July morning, I showed up at the river and was greeted by the site of a copper-haired boy banging his fists into his bare chest and yelling into the wooded air.

Edward's long string of punishments appeared to be over.

He jumped off the footbridge straight into the river. Sandy, seeing such a display of unbounded courage, ran to join him.

Imitating Sandy, I ran over the short footbridge, and while they all splashed in the water, I removed my black patent-leather shoes and placed them aside. Smoothing down the back of my dress, I sat down and dangled my legs over the edge of the bridge, quietly enjoying the droplets that splashed me.

"Come on! I'll take on all of you!" Masen howled when Edward jumped on his back, and Rose and Alice joined in the fray. It wasn't until they saw Sandy join in the mix, barking and yipping in her tiny voice, that they looked up and saw me.

"Isabella, you're finally here!" Alice called. "Come on in, Isabella! Come on! We're trying to drown Masen!"

I smiled. "I'd rather not join in any drownings."

Edward watched me, his eyes bright and so much like the rich hue of forestry surrounding us.

"_Now_ you're scared of the river, Little Girl?"

"I am _not_ scared." I lifted my chin.

He smirked, clearly not believing me. "Come on in and prove it then."

"But I don't have on a swimsuit."

Masen snorted. "Just come in in your skivvies the way Alice does. Neither one 'a you got anything to hide yet anyways."

Standing, I untied the belt ribbon behind my pale, yellow sundress before undoing the buttons down the front. Then I stripped down to my hand-knit drawers and camisole.

"Don't jump!" Edward ordered. "Jumping ain't for amateurs."

I pressed my lips together to keep from reacting to the cold while Alice and Rose took my hands and slowly eased me off the bridge, yet I still landed in the water with a splash that made me yelp. Submerged to just below my shoulders, I was just a tad bit frightened, colder than I'd been all summer – and so exhilarated I squealed in delight just like the little girl Edward kept accusing me of being.

Everyone laughed.

"It feels good, right?" Alice asked.

"It feels wonderful!"

"All right, all right," Edward said, getting the group back on track. "Now Masen is an enemy machinegun air-fighter, and we've got to shoot him down! ATTACK!" he roared.

And we all jumped Masen.

OOOOOOOOOO

The summer weeks consisted of my tending to my lessons in the mornings while the Cullens and Rose tended to their chores. Afterwards, we'd all meet by the river. Some days, it rained too much to go into the water, and we'd just hang out on the bridge or by the big evergreen on the Cullen's property, swinging on the tire swing, talking and laughing while Sandy ran circles around us, licking and nipping and barking. Sometimes I'd carry her like she was an infant child, and just like one, she'd curl herself around me. If she did something naughty, she'd give me her sweet, puppy-dog eyes and all would be forgotten – at least by me. Then she'd wag her tail and flap those long, floppy ears, and…God, I loved that dog. Even if she wouldn't come when called or sit or stay. And even if she may have had a problem understanding that she must only relieve herself outside, and the furniture, good God, the furniture…

"Isabella Marie Dwyer!" Mrs. Cope yelled one day as Sandy and I were running down the porch steps, leaving for the river. I cringed at her tone because Mrs. Cope only used that tone for one purpose.

"That darn mutt has gone and left another mess under the stairs!"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Cope. I'll clean it."

"Never mind cleaning it. I'll take care of it, but Isabella, I will warn you that the servants are gettin' ready to choke that dog, and if that dining room table falls over on your mother due to how chewed up them legs are, Lord help you and that dog." She shook her head, her hands around her wide hips. "You need to put the fear of God into that beast."

"I'm trying, Mrs. Cope," I said.

"Mmhm," she said, giving me a skeptical eye while she looked between me and Sandy – who sat innocently on her bottom, panting happily.

OOOOOOOOOO

On one breezy, misty day, we were playing by the evergreen when I realized Sandy wasn't around. My eyes scanned the horizon, and leaving the others behind, I went searching.

I didn't have to search too far. She was just beyond the line of trees that separated the Cullen's back property from the encroaching woods.

And she was with Edward.

He was kneeling on the soggy grass, face to face with Sandy, both of them still as statues even as I approached.

"What are you doing?" I whispered in Edward's ear. He didn't move; the only proof that he was a living being was the way his chest rose and fell with his breaths, his bare arms golden-pink and goosefleshy. It relieved me, this proof that he was flesh and blood despite how still he was.

Finally, keeping his eyes on Sandy, he spoke. "I'm going to train this damn dog to be obedient if it's the last thing I do. Now leave us be."

Walking away backwards, I slunk down to the ground a few feet away to wait and see what Edward had planned.

"Sit!" Edward said, strong and firm.

Sandy stared at him.

"Sit!" he repeated.

Nothing.

This command was given more than a few times to no more a response than a wagging tail.

Slow as molasses, Edward reached out and placed his open palm on the back of Sandy's neck, pushing her behind to the ground.

"Sit!" he commanded, louder and rougher.

As soon as he let go, Sandy stood on all fours again.

Edward pushed her down once more, repeating the process over and over. I'll admit it began to bore me. After about forty-five minutes of just sitting there, my behind was cold from the wet earth, and I'd taken to entertaining myself by catching the now falling raindrops on the tip of my tongue.

"Sit! Good girl, there you go. Good girl."

My eyes snapped back to Edward and Sandy.

"Sit!"

Without any pushing or forcing on Edward's part, Sandy dropped her behind to the ground - and stayed there.

"Good girl!"

Leaving the raindrops behind, I ran to Edward and Sandy, watching with wide eyes as Edward repeated the technique.

"You try now, but don't say it in your little girl voice," he smirked. "Say it loud and firm."

I turned to Sandy. "Sandy, sit."

"Not like that, Little Girl! You've gotta show her who's in charge!"

"Sit!" I roared.

As soon as Sandy dropped her bottom to the ground, I flung myself into Edward's arms and kissed his cheek soundly.

"Oh, Edward! Thank you! Thank you! Now Mother's servants won't choke Sandy, and Mrs. Cope and I can teach her to poop outside, and Mother won't absolutely die when the dining room table falls over!"

I must've caught him off guard when my small, skinny arms wrapped tightly around his neck because it was a while before I felt his hands on my shoulders – pushing me away.

"All right, all right, that's enough," he mumbled.

I backed up. "You're my hero, Edward." I grinned up at him because he was, and when you're ten years old, there's no reason to hide your feelings.

But right then and there, Edward simply rolled his eyes.

OOOOOOOOOO

At the very end of July, Esme and Carlisle invited me to supper again.

I spent a lot of time with them between playing with the kids by the evergreen or in the house when the weather didn't suit outside play. We tended to wander into Doc Cullen's vet clinic and watch him as he tended to his animal patients: a sick dog, a cat full of hairballs, a cow who wasn't producing or a horse who was limping. Now if he was tending to human patients, we were summarily told to skidaddle on out of there and go help Esme in the kitchen – which I also loved doing.

"I don't like that idea at all, Isabella," Mother said at breakfast when I told her I'd been invited. "Those Cullen children are wild, especially that Edward! I am _still_ writing to Mrs. Vanderneck apologizing for that incident!"

"But Mother, they're my friends."

Mother set down her tea cup. "Isabella, take a look at your sister, Lauren."

Obediently, I looked at Lauren, who sat across from me. She smiled – one of those smiles we've talked about.

"Now Lauren spends her days in constructive endeavors. When she does entertain friends, it's children such as Jessica or Peter. Isabella Darling, you have to rise in your social circle not swim below it!"

"Very true, Mother Renee," Lauren agreed. "I would love to spend more time with my little sister if she would only stay indoors a bit more!"

I blinked at her a few times before once more turning to Mother.

"Please, Mother. The children aren't that wild at all."

"Isabella, I said-"

"Isabella, of course you may go."

Mother turned her steely, blue eyes towards Papa Phil, who was sitting at the other end of the table reading his morning paper.

"Renee, Darling, these are our neighbors for the summer, and the girls have to learn to interact and associate with all of them, regardless of their social standing. Perhaps it would be a good idea for you to spend some more time with them as well. Might help with the boredom you're experiencing this summer." He lifted a brow and once more returned to his paper, discussion clearly over.

Mother watched him, chewing on her lip fiercely as if trying really hard not to say whatever she was thinking. Therefore, I was more than a little concerned when her frown abruptly morphed into a smile, one of her blinding smiles that I recalled would get her just about anything when they'd been directed towards my dad, Charlie.

"Do you know what, Darling, I think you're probably right. I should spend more time with our neighbors, shouldn't I? That barbecue, for example, was lovely - except for that fight of course." She shuddered. "Perhaps if we…yes, I know! We should have another party!"

Papa Phil set down his paper. "Another party?"

"Yes! A party to celebrate Isabella's tenth birthday! Oh Phil, my poor Isabella has never had a real birthday party." Her lips trembled. "Her father…he couldn't afford to give her one, and…my poor child was deprived of that joy."

Papa Phil turned to me, his eyes full of tenderness, a pitiful, sad tenderness that made his big, blue eyes water.

##########

"She was playing him!" Isabella, laughs. "She was playing him like a damn fiddle! How the hell couldn't he see that? It was plain as day!"

"Well, I never said he couldn't see it, Sweetheart. There was much I didn't see yet at my tender age, yet Papa Phil…there are things that happened afterwards…" I shake my head. "But once again, I'm getting ahead of myself."

"So what happened, Nana?" Isabella asks. She's stopped swinging, her big, golden eyes large and absorbed.

##########

Well, Papa Phil agreed, of course. How could he deny me a birthday party when I'd been so previously deprived?

Mother immediately went into planning mode. It would be grander than the Independence Day barbecue. Menus were discussed, themes chosen, and I was informed that I was to play one of the piano pieces that Mr. Jones had been going over with me that summer.

"So that everyone can see what a cultured child you are!" Mother beamed.

As time was so short, invitations went out immediately for the last week of August. My birthday was actually mid-September, but that was beside the point.

Oh yes, and I was allowed to go to the Cullens for supper whenever it suited me as where I spent my days became even less of a concern to Mother while she planned another gala.

OOOOOOOOOO

The weeks passed. The warmth of July's days morphed into the cool evenings of late August, and the day of my birthday party arrived.

The day before, my dress had arrived from New York: a pure silk, white georgette dress created in sixteen panels that fell longer in the back than in the front. It exposed my skinny, knobby knees, but there was fullness at the cascading hem, which made it swish beautifully when I pivoted. The satin bodice was hand-beaded, Mother told me, as was the sequined ribbon belt. The matching, jeweled hairpiece fell just at my hairline like one of those princesses from fairy-tales. Simple, yet elegant white satin flats finished the outfit.

Mrs. Cope escorted me downstairs because Mother was once more playing the part of the perfect hostess. Servants rushed around in their best uniforms, handing out goblets of champagne and small aperitifs while taking furs and jackets.

When all our guests had finally been received, I wandered into the backyard where Alice said she'd be waiting for me. On my way to her, I ran into Lauren and Jessica.

"Ridiculous. It's like dressing up an Okie in finery," Lauren loudly whispered in Jessica's ear.

"It looks simply horrible on her," Jessica whispered back. "And that shade of white does absolutely nothing for her complexion."

Chuckling, they walked away.

OOOOOOOOOO

Dinner was served indoors instead of the outdoor barbecue we'd had a few weeks back. Afterwards, we had cake, and everyone sang _Happy Birthday_.

Then it was time for my piano performance.

As I sat at the black, baby grand piano, my entire frame shook. I could hear the quiet murmurs all around me, and the thought of letting Mother down and ruining her party made me tremble.

"Isabella!" Someone whispered my name loudly.

I looked up and saw Alice, who waved a hand excitedly. At her side, Rose and Masen smiled, and Doctor and Mrs. Cullen nodded encouragingly. See, Mrs. Cullen and I had spent a few hours at her own smaller and older piano, and she'd told me to look for them if I got nervous today.

There was one more face I was looking for though, and as everyone whispered and waited, I scanned the room, and there he was.

The copper-haired boy was leaning against a wall, hands deep in the pockets of his grey trousers. He didn't smile or wave, but his eyes…I remember they held mine with an intensity, an assurance that no matter what, he'd still be standing there.

So I played, and oh did I mess up - in more than one place.

But I didn't care.

And when I was done, while everyone cheered, it was only Edward and his family that I saw.

OOOOOOOOOO

The rest of that night was very similar to Independence Day: we played, and we ran, except Mother told us to behave and warned everyone that she wasn't going to put up with any fights this time – looking directly at an unblinking Edward as she said this.

So we took ourselves outside. See, the summer was coming to an end, and in those days, we knew to make the most of good weather days.

As usual, Sandy ran after us, barking and jumping, nipping at our feet, and refusing to be left out of the fun.

"Goodness, that dog!" Mother grumbled when she and Papa Phil and a few of the guests stepped outside to enjoy the cool evening, and Sandy almost knocked them all over. She'd grown over the summer months.

"She's a sweet thing, though," Esme smiled.

"Yes, well," Mother scowled, "I'm just grateful that she'll be gone in a couple of days. Phil, Darling, you've made the arrangements, haven't you?"

"Yes, Renee. The arrangements have been made."

I stopped running around.

"Mother?"

Mother raised one of her perfect brows. "Isabella, Darling, you did know that Sandy wasn't permanent, didn't you?"

I stared at her.

"Now you didn't honestly think Sandy would be going back to Miss Tudor's with you…or home with us?" She chuckled, laying a diamond-studded hand against her chest. "Sweetheart, she was only here for the summer. I thought you understood that."

The evening that Mother and Dad sat me down to tell me they'd be getting divorced, I went to bed wondering what exactly they were going on about. In those days, divorce wasn't common, therefore I failed to understand the concept. For the few weeks leading up to our departure, I honestly forgot all about the discussion! I suppose you can say that boarding that train in Chicago for the trip to New York peeled away the first layer of naiveté, of that innocence I possessed as a child.

Realizing that Sandy was never meant to be permanent peeled away the second layer.

An agonizing pain welled up inside my chest, so bad that I struggled to draw in breaths.

"Isabella, we'll get you another dog next summer," Papa Phil said. "Any breed you'd like."

"I want Sandy."

Mother and Papa Phil looked at one another. Doctor and Mrs. Cullen looked at one another.

Tearing angrily at the stupid, sparkling headpiece over my head, I flung it to the ground and ran, leaving behind satin shoes stuck in muddy earth, tearing through wooded landscape while branches tore at my dress, and voices called from behind. My tears fell freely: tears for my dad, tears for the friends I'd left behind in Chicago, tears for Mrs. Cope, who had to clean up after a silly girl and her dog, tears for Doctor and Mrs. Cullen, who did everything they could to put a decent dinner on the table every evening, and tears for Sandy, who unaware of her fate, still chased after me.

And I cried for me because despite everything, I'd _still_ trade it all if I could go back to Chicago and the way things used to be.

Exhausted and heartsick, I dropped in front of a tree and sobbed until a pair of arms encircled me…and then another…and then another.

Alice cried along with me. "I hate your mama. I'm sorry, but I do."

"Don't cry, Isabella," Rose said. "It'll be okay."

"Relax, Little Sister," Masen whispered shakily. "You'll make yourself sick. Relax."

It was a while before I got myself together. All the while, Sandy jumped on me, licking my face and trying to make me feel better. I picked her up and cradled her close to me, and for a few minutes, I imagined a world where I could run away with her, and no one would ever find us.

Together, we all walked back the way we'd come because we were children, and there was nothing else we could do.

"Where's Edward?" Alice suddenly asked.

"I don't know," Masen answered. "We'd better look for him and make sure he's not gettin' himself into any trouble because Pop warned him."

Splitting up to look for Edward, I set down Sandy, and she ran off – right to the boy we were searching for.

He had his back to me, and he was speaking with Papa Phil, neither who seemed to notice my approach.

"Now Son, it's a mighty fine offer, but it would be an extra responsibility for your parents. An extra mouth to feed and care for, and times are hard all around."

"I have some savings, Sir. I'll help pay for Sandy's expenses."

"Well…and what about next summer when Isabella returns?"

"She can have her back then. She can have her back every summer."

Papa Phil bounced on his feet, taking a long drag from his cigar as he pondered Edward's words.

"It's a mighty fine offer, yes it is, but I'll have to speak to your parents."

"Yes, Sir."

Papa Phil looked up and spotted me. "And maybe you should ask Isabella what she thinks of your plan, just to make sure she's agreeable."

"Yes, Sir."

Papa Phil walked off then, and I walked up to Edward while Sandy circled us, jumping and nipping at our legs.

"Sit," Edward ordered Sandy, and she sat.

I drew in a few, uneven sighs, overwhelmed by what I'd heard. "Thank you."

Edward shrugged, hands once again buried deep in his pockets. "Yeah, well, it's only while you're at school. When you come back next summer, you gotta take her back."

"She's still mine?"

He smirked. "'Course she's still yours."

"Mother says I'll get some of Papa Phil's money when I turn twenty-one. Then I'll take Sandy and move away – just her and me. You won't have to watch her anymore after that."

He snorted. "Bella, when you're twenty-one, I'll be twenty-three and long gone from here."

I frowned. "Gone to where?"

"To the air corps, of course, to fly a bomber – soon as I turn eighteen. Pop says he won't sign for me before then, so I've got six more years to wait. I'll watch Sandy for you 'til then, but after that, you and your mutt are on your own."

Busy wondering what I'd do with Sandy once Edward left to fly his bombers, it took me a few seconds to ask,

"Why did you call me 'Bella'?"

He gave another shrug, but I thought I saw his cheeks redden just a tiny bit. "You're too small for such a big name like Isabella. 'Sides, when I look at you, I just think…Bella."

"Thank you," I repeated as the realization of how he'd saved me and my Sandy – yet again – sunk in.

Edward rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You said that already. Come on, let's go find the others."

We walked away together, Sandy at our heels. I felt so much…lighter than I'd felt just a few, short moments ago, as if floating in a magical land where nothing could ever go wrong.

I did wonder fleetingly at the choice Edward had just made, even after he'd said he'd never have another dog. But I was barely ten that summer and self-involved - the way barely ten-year-olds tend to be. My thoughts jumped from that short-lived question to ruminations regarding the choices we'd both make when we were older: Edward off to fly military planes, and me…living alone and happy with my Sandy.

Little did we know on that cool, end-of-summer evening in 1934 that magical lands did not exist, and that by the time 1941 rolled around, Edward would be nineteen, I'd be barely seventeen, and the world would make our choices for us.

**A/N: Thoughts?**

**AOI Playlist Song # 5: **

_**You're Getting to be a Habit With Me**_** (1933) by Bing Crosby:**

_**Every kiss, every hug seems to act just like a drug.  
><strong>__**You're getting to be a habit with me.**__**  
><strong>_

*****Today, A Different Forest will be posting a fun little interview we did together. Go check it out if you're interested in random facts about my life and story-writing habits. :)**

*****For fans of Spin & Sway: I'll be posting a five-part outtake to that story very, very soon, that was originally written as a donation for the Fandom for Lymphoma and Leukemia Research. I'll let you all know when it's up.**

**Twitter: PattyRosa817**

**Link to 'Stories by PattyRose' is on my profile page.**

**See you Thursday. :)**


	7. Chapter 6 - True Hearts Never Forget

**A/N: Thank you for your continued beautiful thoughts and words. **

**The next few years will be one chapter each until we get to the critical year of 1941. Of course, Ed & Bella become teenagers before then (they'll already be 16 and 14 respectively in just three chapters). I know many of you are anxious to get Ed and Bella to their older teenage years and beyond. We will be there soon, I promise you.**

**Anyway, by the time we get to an older Bella and Edward, you might find yourselves missing their easier and more innocent times as younger children. :)**

**Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes**

**Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6: True Hearts Never Forget<strong>

Just as the previous year, the first week of my 1935 summer vacation was spent in Chicago with my dad. And just as the previous year, Dad did his best to keep me busy. Jake came over almost every day. We had fun, but I longed for the fresh air and open space I'd known last summer.

"Let's go exploring!" I said to Jake one afternoon. "Let's run and run 'til there's no more houses or stores! Only trees and grass and…and maybe even a river!"

Jake looked at me as if I'd grown two heads.

Instead, we listened _to The Lone Ranger's_ adventures or to a new show called _Hit Parade_ that had just premiered, where Al Goodman and his orchestra led a countdown of the top fifteen songs of the week, and at the end of the hour, they revealed the very top one!

Well, back then, it was a novel idea.

After supper, we'd sit out on the small porch listening to Uncle Billy and Dad discuss the Babe's retirement from baseball and moan about how the sport would never be the same. Or they'd shake their heads over the Black Blizzards across the Midwest and how the latest dust storm had blackened the sky right over our house here. One night, they celebrated FDR's newest deal, The Works Progress Administration, which had finally landed Uncle Billy a job after nearly two years of unemployment.

One day, Dad took Jake and me to a movie house and paid seventy-two cents for the three of us to see _The Bride of Frankenstein_ with Boris Karlof. Afterwards, Jake kept teasing me because I'd covered my eyes in terror when lightning struck Henry Frankenstein's latest monstrous creation, making him triumphantly - and quite horrifyingly - exclaim, "She's Alive! _Alive!"_

For the next few days, Jake found it humorous to catch me unaware and suddenly scream, "She's Alive! Alive!" while waving fists high in the air.

A couple of days before I was to board the _Union Builder_ for my long train ride into Washington, Dad asked me if I wanted to go to the movies again the next day.

"Or we can go into Chicago and do something else - maybe catch a Cubs game?"

I was standing on a wooden stool, drying the dishes he handed me.

"Dad…can we just stay home tomorrow, just you and me?"

Dad stopped scrubbing the dish in his hand and looked at me. We had the same golden eyes, he and I, the same color hair, and I'd been told there was something similar in our smiles, but other than that, I was a miniature version of Mother. At times when he couldn't quite hold my gaze or when he tried to fill up all our time with activities, I wondered who he saw when he looked at me.

"Isabella, it wouldn't…upset you…staying home…just you and your old man?"

I tilted my head sideways, furrowing my brows.

"What I mean is…" – he swallowed – "well, your mother…she would get bored..."

I knew then who he saw when he looked at me.

"Can we go sit on the porch and play cards, just us?"

"Just us?" he repeated.

"Yes, sir."

"Okay," he said, and I could hear the thickness in his voice. "Okay."

OOOOOOOOOO

The _Union Builder_ rumbled quietly north through mountains and prairies, and as days blurred into nights, I spent the hours thinking of Dad and his loneliness, of Jake and his playful teasing, of Uncle Billy and his new job, and of Sandy and the friends I'd soon see.

I thought of Edward…the copper-haired boy, who'd been taking care of my dog for the past nine months, and I remembered how he'd saved me from the river last summer. I recalled the furious look in his eyes when for some unknown reason, he'd punched Peter Vanderneck. I thought of how he'd lent me his courage while I'd played the piano in front of so many strangers. And of course, I remembered how he'd saved my dog from an unknown fate.

I was barely eleven years old that summer, and I knew nothing of romantic love – but I did know that Edward was already my hero.

OOOOOOOOOO

"How has your year been, Ms. Dwyer?" Felix asked after picking up Mrs. Cope and me from the train station in Seattle.

"It's been well, thank you."

I'd spent a week over Christmas with Mother and Papa Phil in New York City, and then a full month with them again in the spring at which time we boarded the Queen Mary to cross the Atlantic into England. Mother kept us busy with shopping excursions through Harrod's and Selfridges, and sightseeing tours through Westminster Abbey and Parliament. Then I'd returned to Miss Tudor's and hadn't seen Mother again until today.

"How have you been, Felix?"

"Well, Ms. Dwyer, guess I can't complain too much. I know lots of folks got it worse than I do, but I'm glad your family is back for the summer; yes, I am. Good, honest, dependable work – 'least for the summer months. Can't complain there."

"Felix, hush!" Mrs. Cope hissed. "The child doesn't need to hear 'bout your hardships."

"Sorry, Little Ma'am," Felix said, tipping his hat to me while he navigated us through the rainy streets of Seattle. "Guess I forgot myself."

OOOOOOOOOO

Mother looked beautifully elegant in a pair of white, navy-style loose trousers and a matching white, navy-style top with a blue ribbon along the neckline. She made a few, quick inquiries into my comfort and contentment at Miss Tudor's before regaling me with stories from her year.

"Isabella, I wish you would've seen how perfect that party was! Gloria will have all the boys falling on their knees at her debutante ball this fall; mark my words. I can't wait until your own coming-out!"

"Renee, the child is barely eleven, and don't forget young ladies must be invited by committee to attend the balls."

"The committee headed by Mrs. Vanderneck, yes, and after last year's fiasco…" she scowled. "Why, Lauren informed me last summer that her mother has _already_ procured an invitation for her from the head of the California committee."

"As Lauren is spending this summer with her mother, I'll have to take your word for it, Darling," he grinned.

Mother was ruminating. "There's still time. After all, the Vandernecks are coming up this summer, aren't they? Perhaps we should invite them to Europe this fall; what do you think, Philip?"

"I don't know that we'll be able to keep those plans to travel to Europe. With the new, German leader ignoring previous treaties and re-arming his nation, I'm hearing rumors of rising tensions all over the continent."

Mother chuckled. "I wouldn't concern myself with that. After all, what can one lone man do against an entire continent?"

OOOOOOOOOO

Once our talk was done, I quickly cleared the first row of trees that divided the back yard from the wilderness that encroached on it. Running through thick trees and wilderness, I removed my shoes so that I could feel the moist grass tickle my feet while the warm breeze blew against my face. I smiled as I inhaled the scent of pine and evergreen. Taking the small footbridge, I crossed into Cullen property, and the door to the house opened just as I ran past the huge evergreen.

Somehow I ended up wrapped in Esme's arms first and then in Alice's and Rose's while Masen ruffled my hair and rumbled a "Hey, Little Sister!"

Esme beamed at me. "Goodness, look how beautifully you've grown!"

"Isabella, I've got so much to tell you since we last wrote!" Alice exclaimed.

"Why don't we all go to the…"

I only vaguely heard the rest of Rose's sentence because behind them all, I caught a glimpse of a boy emerging from the back of the house – and a sandy-toned dog with big, floppy ears nipping playfully at his legs. The boy wore light, corduroy trousers held up by suspenders, a white shirt underneath and a dark cap over his head that hid all but a few wisps of copper, which stuck out over his ears and caught the sun, glittering like gold.

When the boy pointed in my direction, the dog looked up and took off running, jumping me and almost knocking me to the ground. She'd grown, but so had I.

And so had the copper-haired boy.

I picked her up and held her close to me, closing my eyes to the soft warmth of her fur. She licked my face, whimpering happily and wagging her tail so furiously it smacked my stomach hard. She smelled like woods and dog and just…

"She still remembers me!"

"'Course she does," the boy said.

I looked at him.

He'd changed; there was something more…angular in the shape of his jaw. He was taller; standing close, he had about four inches on me now. His eyes were still the most vibrant shade of green I'd ever seen; they looked as if they absorbed the evergreens that surrounded him every day of his life.

"Hello, Edward," I grinned.

"Hey, Bella."

"She's still my dog!" I exclaimed.

"Told you she would be," he smirked. "Dogs are devoted creatures; they have true and loyal hearts that never forget the ones they love, no matter what."

##########

"True and loyal hearts never forget…no matter what," I repeat, staring off into the vast, green landscape.

"What does that mean, Nana?" Isabella asks, and the way she whispers…I get the feeling she's been waiting for me for a while.

So I draw in a deep breath and fill my tired lungs. "It's a phrase, Sweetheart, a simple phrase that later became my mantra and remained so for…well, for a very long time."

##########

As we made our way to the river, it was as if time had stood still, waiting for my return.

We splashed around for a while, and then we lay on the grass.

"What was school like this year?" Alice asked. "What did you learn?"

"Let's see," I said, creasing my forehead as I thought. "We did spelling and arithmetic, and I had Latin added to my languages. We learned about botany and reviewed our colonial history, and of course, we have etiquette class. And oh yes, I began my horseback riding lessons and continued piano and tennis lessons."

They were silent.

When I turned to look at them, they laughed, and it was such a sweet sound that I laughed too. Then Alice filled me in on her year and on the local gossip.

"You should see Jessica," she chuckled. "She doesn't have Lauren here this year, so she's lonely and keeps trying to be part of our gang."

"That's not why she's trying to be part of our gang," Rose laughed.

"Shut up, Rosalie," Edward growled.

"Don't tell her to shut up," Masen ordered.

"Jessica's sweet on Edward," Alice giggled.

"Alice, shut up!" Edward yelled, glaring up at the sky.

Alice continued as if he hadn't said a word. "She told my friend Sally Rogers that she doesn't mind that Edward's still a bit shorter than her. She thinks he's got dreamy eyes."

An uncomfortable flutter rolled around in my stomach; though at the time, I had no idea why. Meanwhile, Edward turned his head Alice's way, narrowing his "dreamy" eyes into slits.

"Jessica's just a dumb girl," he hissed, "like you and your friend, Sally."

Alice shrugged off his insult. "Edward likes the older girls like Miss Connor."

I sat up. "Who's Miss Connor?"

Alice grinned and sat up with me. "Edward's teacher."

"I don't like Miss Connor."

"You told Masen you liked her hair. I heard you."

"What does her hair look like?" I asked. Meanwhile, Edward had stood up and now stalked closer to Alice, who sensing danger, began crawling away backwards like a small crab.

"It's long, dark and wavy." She tilted her head sideways. "Kinda like yours, actually."

By this time, Edward was holding out his hands in front of him, curled into claws.

"Edward, stop," Masen ordered. I was amazed by the fact that he wasn't even looking this way yet he knew what was going on.

Edward froze for a few seconds, as if debating his options. Then he just let his hands drop.

Once more, Alice giggled. "How 'bout you, Bella?" They'd all taken to calling me Bella now. "Is there anyone you're sweet on?"

"I go to school with all girls," I smiled, picking at the blades of wet grass next to me.

"Well, how 'bout in Chicago? Do you like any of your friends in Chicago?"

"Not that way. I mean, there's Jake, but he's more like a brother."

"How old is Jake?" Masen asked.

"Thirteen."

"Like Edward," Rose said.

"Well, Jake's been thirteen since Christmas."

"Big deal!" Edward scoffed, leaning up against a tree a few feet from us. "I've been thirteen for over a week now!"

"How tall is Jake?" Alice asked, ignoring her brother's outburst.

At this, Edward stiffened.

Yes, he'd grown, but at thirteen, Edward still couldn't be considered tall, and apparently height was still a sore point.

"He's a bit taller than Masen, I think," I admitted warily.

Masen whistled through his teeth. "Wow, that's one tall kid."

I could see Edward's dissatisfaction with this revelation in the way his nostrils flared.

"I bet I could beat him up," he muttered, punching the tree and doing away with any pity I may have begun to feel for his plight.

"Well, that wouldn't be very nice at all," I said. "Jake is one of my best friends."

"Settle down, Barney Ross," Masen said. "Remember what Mama and Pop said: "You get into one more fight, they're gonna send you off to one of those boys' schools - and not one of those fancy ones like Bella goes to."

"If they're gonna send me away, then I want them to send me to military school; then I could join the corps sooner."

"They're not going to send you to military school," Masen laughed. "Edward wants to go shoot down some Germans and teach 'em a lesson."

"Would serve them right for re-arming after they were told not to," Edward scowled.

"Do they teach you about the Great War in school?" I wondered aloud.

"Yeah, sometimes," Alice said. "How 'bout in your school?"

I shook my head. "My teachers say war isn't an appropriate topic of discussion for young ladies."

They all stared at me again.

"But my dad talks about the Great War all the time – he and my Uncle Billy."

"Enough talk about the Great War," Masen interrupted. "It's over, and Pop says that this rearmament in Germany ain't none of our country's business."

"Speaking of wars," Alice said, "Is Peter coming this summer?"

"Papa Phil says he and his parents will be spending a week with us for my eleventh birthday party."

"In that case, we'd better keep Edward away from him," Masen snickered.

Edward rolled his eyes and stretched his lean limbs as he walked towards the river once more.

"Little Brother, you never did say what he said to rile you up last summer," Masen commented.

"Doesn't matter," Edward said, standing at the edge of the foot-bridge. "He won't be saying it again."

And without hesitation, he jumped back into the river.

OOOOOOOOOO

We spent every spare moment together. But that's how it is with kids that age. Still innocent and trusting, you form bonds that can never quite be formed in later years because you never do quite trust that way again.

On the days when I had French and Piano lessons, I'd get through those as valiantly as possible.

_j'ai mang__é__  
>tu as mang<em>_é__  
>il a mange<em>_…__  
><em>

And so on and so forth. In piano, I'd been moved on to the Masters: the first movement of Bach's _Well Tempered Cavalier_ as well as the first movement of Mozart's _Piano Sonata Number 10_. Once again informed I'd be performing at my end-of-summer birthday gala, I'd been generously allowed to pick between the two, depending on which one I'd feel more comfortable with by the end of summer.

On more than one occasion, my over-eagerness to be done with lessons was rewarded with Madame Beauchamp assuring me that my embarrassing excuse for French made her want to sob or with Mr. Jones delivering a sharp slap to my non-cooperative fingers with the wooden ruler.

Then there was Jessica.

At first, having Jessica around wasn't so bad without Lauren around to encourage her nasty side. She mostly ignored Alice and me, focusing half of her efforts in trying to impress Masen and Rose because they were older and the other half in catching Edward's attention.

Oh, she was quite obvious about her intentions towards Edward: batting her lashes something awful, shaking her hips, trying to push his hair out of his eyes. At thirteen, Jessica had been endowed with a few generous assets both in front and behind her that stood out quite obviously in the swimsuit she usually wore.

One cool afternoon, we were all by the river. It was one of those days when the water was rough because of the weather. On those days, I didn't dare go in. Despite my dad's continued attempts to the contrary, I was not a strong swimmer.

So while most of them were now in the water, I sat on the footbridge, watching them and laughing contentedly as I translated words into French for them. It was a silly game, and little by little, the translations had somehow grown bawdier. Jessica was the only one not playing along.

"How do you say 'behind' in French?" Alice asked.

I giggled. "_Derrière__**."**_

And legs?" Masen inquired.

"_Les jambes."_

"And what's the French word for a woman's chest?" Edward asked.

"_Décolletage_," I chuckled.

"Bella, why don't you come in?" Jessica asked.

I shrugged. "I don't feel like it."

"What's the matter, can't you swim?" She smirked.

"I just don't feel like it."

"Don't tell me that that fancy school of yours teaches you French but doesn't teach you something as basic as swimming? Even your dog can swim!" She looked over at Sandy, who was indeed paddling away. "Maybe you should learn to say, 'I'm dumber than a dog' in French." She laughed.

Startled by the attack I hadn't been expecting, I looked at Alice. When I saw the fury on her face, my own anger quickly turned into fear for Jessica.

"Why don't you just shut your dumb mouth and leave her alone?"

Again, I was startled. My eyes quickly shifted to Edward.

"I was just teasing her," Jessica told Edward.

"Well don't," he snapped.

"You guys tease her all the time," she whined defensively.

"We're allowed to tease her; you're not," Masen said.

Jessica opened her mouth again but then wisely closed it.

And I only partly hid my smile. _"Je suis plus __bête__ qu'un chien."_

Jessica looked up at me, scowling. "What?"

"That's how _you'd_ say, "I'm dumber than a dog."

Everyone – except for Jessica – fell into fits of laughter.

It would be a few years before she got me back for that one, but when she did, oh boy, was it a doozy.

OOOOOOOOOO

The summer days passed, and then it was once more time for my birthday gala. Having had more time to plan this year, Mother had my dress shipped all the way from Asia. It was made of the softest silk that wrapped around the front in a magnificent shade of pale pink.

Peter Vanderneck returned, and he and Edward put the previous year's fight behind them…

or so I thought until a few years later.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Mother planned a proper, sit-down dinner for this year's event. She separated dining tables based on those who knew one another: Papa Phil's friends and business associates from Seattle and the west coast from the neighbors from Forks – which naturally led to a separation by class.

Children were also seated separately from the adults, yet our table was also set with fine linens and silverware. Unfortunately, except for Jessica, Peter and me, most of the other children had a difficult time understanding what all the silverware was for. There was lots of nervous whispering and chuckling.

Afterwards, when we'd finished, Papa Phil made his way to our table and engaged us all in conversation. He spent quite a while talking to Masen, asking him about school and talking sports, and he even spoke to Edward for a while. I was quietly grateful for Papa Phil's interest in the Cullens when I suspected Mother's intentions towards them may have been quite different.

Then Mother approached our table. "Isabella, why don't you escort Peter and Jessica and…the rest to the parlor and play them some music while the adults finish their drinks. We'll join you for your concerto in a short while."

"Yes, Mother."

Face flaming, I led the way to the large parlor with Alice at my side.

"This is all so fancy, Bella," she smiled encouragingly. "I feel like I'm in a fairy tale."

Behind me, Edward snorted. "Pfft, some fairy tale - rich people and their snooty selves."

My face burned hotter, and I felt tears of embarrassment sting my eyes -

until Edward appeared at my other side. He smiled crookedly, his green eyes contrite. Bowing exaggeratedly, he stood and crooked his arm my way.

"M'Lady, if I may escort you?" he said in a very bad British accent.

For a couple of beats, I stared at him warily. Then Masen and Rose chuckled quietly behind us, and Alice giggled at my side. Even Peter snorted in front of us because this whole party was just so ridiculous, and despite our ages, we _all_ knew it.

I put my arm through his and responded in my most posh voice. "Why thank you, M'Lord."

And then we all burst out laughing.

OOOOOOOOOO

I awoke with a start.

Sitting up in bed, I looked down at the rug on the floor where Sandy was in dreamland. I'd forgotten to feed her tonight, and though knowing her she'd probably picked up scraps here and there, I couldn't help but feel guilty.

Wrapping myself in a robe, I made my way out of the room, Sandy quietly at my heels.

"I'm sorry, Girl," I whispered as we made our way through the hallway. "I suppose with the excitement of the day and such…but that's no excuse, I know."

We were about to take the stairs down, but voices coming from Mother and Papa Phil's bedroom suddenly caught my attention.

"…no class, and she'll end up just as wild if you don't step in!" Mother said.

Papa Phil chuckled. "Renee, you're over-reacting."

"I'd hoped young Peter Vanderneck would open her eyes as to what's acceptable! I'd hoped seeing the contrast between those children and Peter would make her see the difference-"

"You ask too much from that child," Papa Phil said. "This isn't the time to plan debutante balls or to find her a proper match. This is time to let her grow and get dirty if she must. Now when the time comes, I assure you I will make sure that Isabella has _all_ she deserves, but for now, let her be, Renee. We are _not_ old money."

"We may not be old money," Mother said in a scathing tone, "but neither are we like the classless nobodies you insist on forcing us to associate with! Why that _Doctor_ Cullen is nothing more than a pig farmer, and his wife, Esme, is a backwoods strumpet, who gives herself undeserved airs of superiority!"

There was a long stretch of silence, and I wondered if it was because they'd heart Sandy's panting.

"Renee, you're my wife, and I realize that you've had difficult times, but I warn you, that will be the last time you speak that way of that family in front of me. I've known them for a very long time, and Esme…Esme I've known my _entire_ life," he hissed, his voice shaking in a frightening way. "She's a good woman, and she deserves nothing but respect, and I hope you're intelligent enough to realize that when you insult our neighbors, you insult _me_, for this is what I come from!"

I couldn't see them, but I could hear the fury in Papa Phil's voice, and I could imagine how he must've looked. Mother must've seen it because her voice suddenly changed from angry and shrill to soft and apologetic.

"Philip, Darling, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to offend you; I swear it! I'm just concerned for my daughter, for _our_ daughter."

"You have nothing to worry about," he said coldly. "I told you when we married that Isabella will never want for anything. She's an innocent child, and I will never allow her to pay for _anyone's_ mistakes."

"I know you won't," Mother said breathlessly. "You saved Isabella and me from living our lives in squalor! I love you, Philip! I love you!"

Then I heard what sounded like objects being pushed and shoved around, and strange…moans and groans that sounded as if Mother and Papa Phil were in pain – or some sort of physical altercation.

"Oh Philip!" Mother screamed, and I frowned. "God, Philip!"

"That's right. Just like that, Renee. Make it up to me just…like…that. _Ahhh_."

Curious - and a bit frightened for Mother - I inched closer and placed my hand on the doorknob because if Mother cried out once more, I'd have to go in and-

"Isabella!" Mrs. Cope hissed.

She pulled me away from the door and led me back to my room.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Are you sure Sandy won't starve if she waits until morning to eat?" I asked Mrs. Cope as she settled me back into my bed.

"Does that dog look like she's starving to you?" Mrs. Cope asked.

I looked at Sandy, once again nestled onto the rug beside my bed, her strong, muscular frame relaxed and healthy.

Mrs. Cope placed a quick kiss on my forehead and turned to leave.

"Mrs. Cope, what's a backwoods strumpet?"

She froze and then turned around.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Mother called Miss Esme a backwoods strumpet."

Mrs. Cope's approached my bed once more, slowly reaching out to stroke my long hair.

"It's nothing you should be repeating, and it sure isn't anything that describes Miss Esme. Miss Esme is one of the most upstanding, kindest women I've ever met."

"That's what Papa Phil said."

She smiled – one of those sad smiles. "I'm sure he did defend her. Go to sleep, Isabella, and dream beautiful, childlike dreams because…well, just go to sleep, Child."

And then she turned around and left.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thoughts?**

**AOI Playlist Song # 6:**

_**Gold Digger's Song (We're in the Money) – **_**Recorded in 1933 by Dick Powell (but covered by oh so many people over the years):**

_**We're in the money.  
><strong>__**We're in the money.  
><strong>__**We've got a lot of what it takes to get along.**__**  
><strong>_

**Twitter: PattyRosa817**

**Link to 'Stories by PattyRose' is on my profile page.**

**Have a great weekend!**


	8. Chapter 7 - Growing

**A/N: Once again, thanks so much for your beautiful and sweet thoughts. :)**

**I've got some news to share. Check out the A/N at the end.**

**Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes.**

**Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7 - Growing<strong>

In the summer of 1936, my return to Forks was met with a…tall surprise.

Having made my way to the river, the first thing I saw was Masen and another boy bare-chested and in folded-up pants standing on the footbridge, hollering and yelling into the river. The boy next to Masen looked familiar – copper hair and impish chuckle – but he was tall…almost as tall as Masen…

"And the 1936 Olympic Gold Medal for High Dive is gonna go to the U.S. and to-"

"Edward!"

When the boy turned around and saw me, a beautiful grin lit up his face.

"Bella!"

We were old friends now, so we ran to each other as such, and Edward swooped me up in his long, lean arms, swinging me around and around.

"Put me down! Put me down!" I laughed. "You're making me dizzy!"

Edward chuckled and set me down while Sandy barked and nipped at my bare toes. I picked her up and squeezed her wet body tightly to me, having missed her so much over the long months.

"Edward, you're almost as tall as Masen now!"

He grinned, smugly rolling a blade of grass around in his mouth like a popsicle. "And you're still tiny," he teased.

"I've grown as well!" I said indignantly.

I had – but nowhere near as much as Edward. At fourteen, he could no longer be considered short, while I at almost twelve…well, I was still one of the petite girls in my class.

His features had changed as well. The square shape of his jaw was more defined, more angular, skin stretched tighter along his cheekbones, possessing even less of the childish roundness that had still marked it last year. There was also something different in the way he smiled, the way he grinned, something more confident and mature. His voice was stronger, less boyish.

Either way, we were all the best of friends again, and we caught up, just like the previous summers.

Though if Jessica had the sweets for Edward before, she was positively moony-eyed over him now. With Lauren back in town this summer, Jessica somehow convinced my stepsister to venture out of the house, so Alice and I had to deal with both of them instead of just one.

What's more, this year, fifteen-year old Peter Vanderneck and his family joined us early, around the Independence Day holiday. Lauren begged him to come to the river, and Peter, realizing it was either that or spend his days alone with the grown-ups, relented.

So for the first couple of weeks that summer, we were a larger group, and as much antagonism and/or crushes, both known and unknown as there may have been between certain parties of our gang, we all managed to get along - for the most part. We were still children, and we had a way to go yet before school-aged crushes turned into teenaged exploration or before childhood teasing turned into grown-up rivalries and betrayals.

OOOOOOOOOO

Now in the summer of 1936, there was one of the worst heat waves in U.S. history. In the Midwest, where things were already bad enough because of the dry, arid earth, it was an absolute nightmare. That summer, thousands of people died all over the country.

As for us, we barely left the river that summer.

We spent one particular day, a couple of days after the Independence Day barbecue, cooling off in the large swimming pool at our house. I can't recall why we were there; although I do recall it wasn't very often we chose it over the river. Perhaps we were there because it was easier to play a game that Masen had taught us called "Marco Polo."

"Little Sister," Masen said after a while, "You've sure got the life here. This here's what I'd like someday, 'cept I don't want to have to leave Forks to get it. Maybe I'll get lucky somehow and riches will fall right into my lap."

I chuckled. "I wish I never had to leave Forks either."

"Ugh, I hate Forks!" Lauren moaned.

"Father says it takes more than luck to build a name for yourself. It takes brains and an education," said Peter.

Edward swam around us casually. "How would your pop know anything about building a name for himself being he was born into his name and riches?"

Peter glared at him, yet Edward kept right on swimming.

"All of this'll be mine when I grow up anyways," Lauren said. "I don't need work, luck or an education."

"This'll be Bella's as much as it'll be yours," Alice piped in.

Lauren scowled. "We'll see about that."

Before Alice could swim over and shove Lauren's head underwater, I assured her,

"When I grow up, I'm going to go to college, and then I'll buy my own things."

Lauren snickered. "Mother says college is only for unfortunate girls who can't find a husband."

"That's stupid," Rose said. "I'd like to go to college too."

"And girls with no other prospects," Jessica whispered loudly to Lauren, making them both giggle.

"Bella, you're not going to college anyway," Lauren laughed. "You're going to marry whomever your mama picks for you and have his babies!"

"I am not!" I snapped.

Spurred on by Lauren's presence, Jessica decided to put her two cents in.

"Yes, you are! You're going to marry someone like Peter!"

"She won't marry Peter!" Lauren scowled. "I'm sure Peter has better taste than that!"

"Well, he sure wouldn't marry you!" Alice retorted.

And just like that, it all dissolved into an argument as to whether Peter would marry Lauren or me when we grew up, and everyone seemed to have an opinion on the subject.

Save for Peter himself and curiously enough, Edward.

Both boys simply stood there: Peter stiff and stoic, Edward leaning against the pool's edge, cool as a cucumber, arms crossed against his bare chest while he just watched Peter.

"Well, I'm not marrying him! So he can marry her if he wants!"

"He wouldn't marry her anyway! She's an Okie from the Dust Bowl!"

"I'm from Chicago!"

"Same thing!"

"Hold on, hold on!" Masen refereed. "Peter, being as you're right here, why don't you tell us which of the Dwyer sisters you'd marry: Bella or Lauren." He grinned impishly, enjoying the silly game.

Wide-eyed, Peter Vanderneck shifted his eyes between Lauren and me over and over. He swallowed, looked back and forth, and repeated the process.

"Well it won't be me!" I declared.

"I don't have any plans to marry anyone just about now anyway," Peter muttered.

Masen howled with laughter. "I'll make a prediction," he said, pointing a finger up to the sky like an old prophet. "In ten years, Rose and I will be married with four babies, Peter will be married to a rich heiress, Lauren will be married to a Duke or some such, Alice will be married to a picture movie actor, Jessica will be married to a traveling circus clown-"

"Hey!" Jessica complained.

Masen ignored her. "Bella will be in college learning how to save the world, and while she does that, Edward will be the one married to-"

"I ain't marrying nobody," Edward said.

We all turned to look at him.

"I'm going to the air corps, soon as I turn eighteen. I ain't getting me no wife that'll need me to stay put and go to college and get me a good job so I can give her a good home. No, siree. Not doing it."

"So you'll only go to college if you're going to marry someone?" I asked.

"Yup."

"Well that doesn't sound very smart at all," I said, and uncomfortable with the silly pool games, I got out of the water.

OOOOOOOOOO

One early morning towards the end of July, before the heat of the day had shifted into the unbearableness of the afternoon, Alice and I were taking turns swinging from the tire under the evergreen. From where we were, I could see Edward sitting under a smaller tree a few yards away, writing. He'd picked up a journal at some point from somewhere, and periodically, he'd be found with his ruddy brows furrowed in deep concentration, sitting somewhere as his pencil slashed over paper.

"What does he write in there?" I wondered while Alice soared high into the sky.

She shrugged. "His dumb thoughts, I suppose."

Esme walked out of the house and sank down to the warm grass, crossing her legs as she took a seat next to me.

"Bella, you know how you and Alice have helped me with cooking for the soup kitchens in Seattle."

"Yes, Ma'am," I said.

"I wanted to see if you wanted to join us next weekend and come into Seattle to help serve."

Once a month, the Cullens went into Seattle to help in a soup kitchen because despite how safe and happy and well-fed I felt here in Forks, times were hard, though it was easy for me to forget. Self-involved as I was, I tended not to notice that the Cullen's clothing was faded and older, that there hadn't been new furniture in a while, nor sugar or butter or so many of the things that I took for granted. Yet the smiles and affection that I always saw and that I always _felt_ around them made it easy for me to forget what they lacked.

"I don't know if Mother would allow me."

"Carlisle and I will speak to your mother and stepfather," Esme assured me.

And so the following weekend, Lauren and I went to Seattle with the Cullens.

It was a lesson in compromise. I was allowed to go, but my stepsister came with me, and we arrived in Papa Phil's car so that when the waiting press snapped our picture, all would know that Philip Dwyer the Second fully supported the soup kitchens and believed in helping those less fortunate.

Once inside, the people I saw in there could've been Uncle Billy or my dad or Mother and I, but at some point, life had dealt them a different set of cards; not a trip to New York and a chance meeting with a rich tycoon. I didn't understand it all yet, but I wanted - even if just for a few hours - to give them at least a sense of the hope I _still_ possessed.

When it was time to go, Lauren was relieved, and afterwards, back at home sitting in the richly-appointed parlor, I tried to understand what I'd seen that day by opening up to Mother.

"They looked so sad," I told her. "They didn't smile, and their hands shook, and their eyes…they had no light left in their eyes."

I think…I think what I wanted more than anything was for her to ask me about Dad and about Uncle Billy. I needed her to help me understand what could possibly happen to a person that would leach all of the light from his or her eyes; how people could stop hoping…could stop loving.

"Isabella, please," she said. "You don't hear Lauren going on and on about all that ridiculousness! I don't understand why Philip allowed you both to attend such a horrid place. He accomplishes the same thing every month by simply signing a check."

And as she continued flipping through swatches for new curtains, I walked out of the parlor.

It was late evening, and I knew I had to get upstairs and prepare for supper; change into one of my beautiful dresses so that I could come down and eat my wonderful meal.

Instead, I walked past the line of trees that divided the property from the wilderness. Unaware of direction or distance, I sat down at a gathering of bushes and allowed tears I didn't even understand to fall while Sandy licked my face, and I stroked her soft fur. A sliver of reddish light streamed through the thick trees as the sun made it's descent from the sky, yet I couldn't get up.

"What's wrong?"

I gasped and turned around.

Edward was kneeling behind me. There was a bucket of fish before him, a rod in his hand, and his trusty journal under his arm.

Holding his evergreen gaze, the tears fell silently.

"What is it, Little Girl?" he said, using the pad of his thumb to wipe under my eyes.

I shut my eyes tight yet the tears wouldn't relent. "I don't really know. She doesn't understand me, and I don't understand her, and I wish…"

I cried harder, unwilling and unable to utter my biggest twelve-year-old fear aloud – not even to Edward, not that summer. But I think…somehow he knew.

For a long time, Edward knelt there, watching me, wiping my eyes. Eventually, he drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"You know that big evergreen by my house, Bella? The anomaly?"

I stopped crying. "Yes."

"That's you."

My brows furrowed. "What?"

"People like you…they're not supposed to care so much."

I frowned. "What do you mean people like me?"

"Rich people," he said. "They usually don't care about anything but themselves."

"Well that's not a nice thing to say at all."

"It's true." He shrugged unapologetically. "But you're not like that. You just don't belong there in that big house."

"How about in a house like yours?" I asked curiously. "You think I'd belong somewhere like that?"

"No. You don't belong in a house like that either. Haven't you noticed? You stick out wherever you go."

"But if I don't belong in a house like mine, and I don't belong in a house like yours, where do I belong, Edward?"

He stared at me for a long moment, and the sun hid behind the trees, descended into the ground and left behind nothing more than a hint of twilight to illuminate us in shades of gold and red.

With a sigh, Edward picked up his pail full of fish and stood. He held out his other hand, and when I took it, he helped me up and finally answered me.

"I've got no idea where you belong Bella, but I promise you this: we'll figure it out...just not today cuz it's getting dark. Come on, I'll walk you home."

And hand in hand, we walked back the way I'd come.

OOOOOOOOOO

Mid-August, a few days before my Birthday Gala, Masen came up with what turned out to be…not such a great idea - though at the time, it sounded magnificent.

The heat of the summer had receded, at least up in the Olympic Mountains. Evenings brought with them cool breezes and relief from the long, scorching summer, and Masen got it into his head that it would be fun to have a camp-out over by the big evergreen, under the light of the moon and the twinkling of the night stars.

Now convincing Mother of the magnificence of this idea would've most likely been impossible, except it just so happened that Mother and Papa Phil would be in Seattle for a couple of days and therefore the decision fell to Mrs. Cope, who adored the Cullens. And as Esme assured her that she'd take full responsibility and check on us often, Lauren and I were allowed to go.

Two tents were set up by Doctor Cullen: one for the girls and one for the boys.

Masen and Rose, at fifteen, were the oldest of our group. Therefore, they were put in charge. But while exploring by myself inside the girls' tent, I caught snippets of a conversation.

"…respect that girl. I understand your feelings, but you are both still children."

"Yes, Sir."

"…remain in your tent with Edward, and she remains in her tent with the girls. We'll be checking."

"Yes, Sir."

We lay under the stars that night, five girls and two boys. If you ask me what exactly we talked about, I won't be able to say. I remember lots of laughter…and perhaps a few arguments.

I remember there were ghost stories, but the one I recall clearly is the last one Masen told because he swore it was an entirely true tale told to him by one of his teachers, who'd been told the story by his own father:

_It was forty years ago, late summer of 1896, on a dark, misty night like tonight happened to be. A family was traveling by covered wagon from Oregon to the lush, green mountains of Washington, and the father noticed a young girl, about Rose's age, walking alone along the trail. _

_He stopped the wagon, and saw that the young girl was dirty, her long calico dress torn and her hair wild and messy. He asked her if she needed help, and the girl responded that she lived a few miles north, and could they please give her a ride to her homestead? The mother took the young girl to the back of the wagon and tended to her while her own two daughters, about my and Alice's age, slept soundly. The mother asked the girl what she'd been doing walking all alone, but the girl began to sob. _

_When they arrived at the homestead, both the mother and father walked to the door of the small cabin, ready to announce to the young girl's parents inside that they'd found their daughter hurt and sobbing on the road. Yet when the door was opened and they told their story, the homestead owner's face turned ashen, and he informed the travelers that his daughter had been murdered a few miles from there by a tribe of Indians exactly ten years ago that night._

_Bewildered, the travelers ran to their wagon only to find that the girl was gone – as were their two young daughters._

"Did they ever find them?" I whispered.

"Well…" Masen said lowly, "it depends on what you mean by _find_. The parents never did see any of the three girls again, but…"

"But what?" Alice asked urgently.

"But…they say that sometimes…if you listen really carefully, you hear the young girls sobbing. And it just so happens that every ten years since that first young girl was murdered, another young girl goes missing up here in the Olympic Mountains."

We were all silent, listening to the sounds of the wilderness surrounding us.

"You made that up," Lauren said.

"No, I didn't," Masen assured her solemnly. "One of my teachers told me, and he wouldn't lie. Edward, you've heard the story, haven't you?"

"I sure have," Edward confirmed.

When we all retired to our tents, I stared up at the roof of ours, wide-eyed. The owls' hoots sounded like the cries of young girls, the cicadas' clicking screeches were reminiscent of a young girl's screams, and I was so grateful that Sandy had been assigned as sentry right outside our tent.

"Can't you sleep?" Alice whispered.

"No."

"I can't sleep either," Rose said.

"Nor I," said Lauren and then Jessica.

Then we heard what sounded like a succession of uneven sighs followed by heavy breathing and then…quiet sobs.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," Lauren cried. "I want to go home!"

"Shhh!" Alice ordered.

We heard the sobbing again.

"Bella," Rose said, "why isn't Sandy barking?"

Icy blood ran through my veins. "Sandy?"

There was no answer - not even a whimper or a pant.

"Sandy!"

Alice clung tightly to my hand, but I had to find Sandy. Together, we rushed out of the tent…

…and were met by roars and howls.

I don't think I've ever screamed louder. Inside the tent, Jessica, Lauren and Rose shrieked like they were being murdered.

A dark cloud hiding the moon abruptly shifted, allowing its bright light to shine fully over the two brothers thrown over the muddy, moist dirt - roaring with laughter.

"You brutes!" Alice yelled. "You crumbs! You twits!"

She jumped on them, banging her thirteen-year-old fists against their sides and stomachs while they howled and rumbled, rolling on the ground and holding their stomachs from the force of their chortles.

The three girls remaining in the tent made their way out, verbally abusing the Cullen brothers as well, and all the while I stood there still and silent, unable to move, unable to breathe.

##########

"But it was just the guys playing a joke, Nana," Isabella chuckles. "Why were you still scared?"

"Oh I'll get to that."

##########

After the girls had satisfied their fury, they hopped right back into the tent while Edward and Masen returned to theirs.

"Bella?" Alice said, when she saw me still standing there. "Aren't you coming back in?"

"You go ahead, I need to go to the bathroom," I said.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, that's okay. I've got Sandy with me."

So in the dark and quiet cover of night, I made my way back to the Cullen house with silent tears streaming down my face. The cool breeze blew through my cotton night shift, and I shivered from both cold and shame, especially as I felt the wetness dripping down my legs.

##########

Oh, Nana." Isabella shakes her head slowly. "Nana, no. No."

"Yes," I nod, smiling ruefully. "Yes. I'd peed myself from fright."

##########

All the way back to the house, I cried and thought of how the time I'd almost drowned a few summers ago was nothing compared to the embarrassment I felt now. As I hobbled like a penguin up the dark porch, I was positive that nothing could ever happen that would be more mortifying.

"Bella?"

I drew in a sharp breath and whipped around, only to have a flashlight blind me momentarily. When it moved out of my eyes, Edward was at the foot of the steps, looking up at me. He frowned when he saw the tear tracks on my face, and his eyes traveled anxiously over me. I saw his eyes widen when the flashlight shined over the wet spot just below my stomach. Boy, I really started sobbing then.

"Oh, Bella," he said. "Oh Little Girl, I'm sorry." He tried to approach me, but I took a step back, sobbing and sobbing.

"Bella, don't cry," Edward pleaded. "Please don't cry. I'm sorry. We shouldn't have frightened you that way."

"I've got to change," I said through my tears.

He nodded quickly. "Mama and Pop should be sleeping by now. You go upstairs and get some clean clothes from Alice's room."

Quietly, with silent tears streaming down my face, I made my way to Alice's room and changed my unders and my nightshift, balling my soiled garments together and stuffing them under the bed to retrieve come morning.

When I made it back downstairs, I was both startled and mortified to see that Edward was still there.

"What are you still doing here?" I asked, my voice broken and shaky.

"I was waiting for you," he said.

"For what?" I moaned bitterly. "So you can wake up everyone and tell 'em what a baby I am so that they can all laugh at me?"

"You really think I'd do that?" he asked, a note of hurt in his tone. "What kind of a heel do you take me for?"

I raised a brow.

"All right, all right."

Deliberately walking by him, I took the porch steps down and walked back towards the evergreen and camp, and though I could hear him a few steps behind, I couldn't get myself to face him. I was angry at him for scaring me, but I was angrier at myself for still being such a child.

Yet the night was dark, and Masen's story was still circling around in my head. When an owl hooted and caught me unaware, I jumped, gasping loudly.

"Hey."

Edward was next to me, and when he turned me carefully to face him, I had to strain to look up and meet his gaze, green eyes so bright under the glittering stars that my breath unexpectedly caught in my throat.

"Are you okay?" He frowned when I didn't answer, resting his hand on my shoulder as we stood under the evergreen; under the old and magnificent tree while the stars shone above us.

"I'm scared." I hadn't meant to say it out loud, but suddenly, I felt like I could tell him anything.

He smiled reassuringly. "I know you are. I'm sorry I frightened you earlier, but Bella, when you're with me, you don't ever have to be afraid." His comforting grip tightened around my shoulder. "I'll never let anything hurt you. Got that?"

Again, I didn't answer right away. I couldn't, caught up as I was in an unfamiliar, strange…bewildering sensation; suddenly lost in eyes I'd looked into hundreds of times in the past three summers…physically startled by a tender touch I'd felt almost as many times.

"Got that?" he reiterated.

I blinked once, twice, and managed a smile through my confusion. "Yes, I've got it."

And carefully wrapping his hand around my wrist, Edward escorted me the rest of the way to our tents.

Still being so young, that moment by the light of the moon and the stars is probably the safest I'd ever felt in my life. That summer, something had shifted in Edward's and my friendship. It was something subtle that took us from the realm of friends to the realm of the best of friends. Alice was still my best friend of all, but there were things that Edward knew about me, things I'd never even said aloud, yet he'd been witness to them…to things we were both still too young to understand.

By the time I took the train back East that summer, my mind was full of lush mountains, and of flowing rivers, and of the most beautiful, tender green eyes in existence. And at twelve years old, I asked myself for the first time if it was possible that Edward and I would someday be more than the best of friends…

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thoughts?**

**I've got two bits of news:**

**Next Monday, 12/15, I'll start posting a five-part outtake to Spin & Sway that was originally prepared as a donation for the Fandom for LLS. It will post Monday through Friday. :)**

**The Age of Innocence will NOT post during that week, or the two weeks following since my kids will be home for Christmas vacation and we'll be extremely busy making merry!**

**AFTER THIS THURSDAY'S UPDATE, AOI POSTINGS WILL RESUME ON MONDAY, JAN. 5, 2015.**

**And now here are three songs to add to our AOI Playlist (I couldn't pick just one):**

**AOI Playlist:**

**Song #7: _The Glory of Love (1936)_ by Benny Goodman and his Orchestra:**

**_You've got to give a little, take a little,__  
><em>_And let your poor heart break a little.__  
><em>_That's the story of, that's the glory of love._**

**Song # 8: _Alone_ (1936) by Tommy Dorsey:**

**_There must be someone waiting__  
><em>_Who feels the way I do__  
><em>_Whoever you are, are you, are you...Alone_**

**Song #9: _Summertime_ (1936) by Billie Holiday**

_**Summertime and livin' is easy  
><strong>**Fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high  
><strong>**Oh, your daddy's rich and your ma is good lookin'  
><strong>__**So hush little baby, don't you cry.**__**  
><strong>_

**Twitter: PattyRosa817**

**Link to 'Stories by PattyRose' is on my profile page.**

**See you on Thursday!**


	9. Chapter 8 - Summer Dreams

**A/N: Thank you for your continued wonderful and sweet thoughts.**

**Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes.**

**Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8 – Summer Dreams <strong>

**Summer 1937 **

_Edward and I sit side by side while our bare legs dangle off the edge of the footbridge. We talk and laugh as we do every summer, except I'm ever aware of the strange and exciting tingling in my stomach every time one of his limbs happens to brush one of mine. What's more, I'm mesmerized by the way the sun's rays shine off of his eyes, making them stand out like bright emeralds in the center of what's already a chest full of treasures. Rusty hair burns bright like wildfire, the brown strands always overpowered by copper in these mid-summer days. I yearn to reach out and touch the wet strands covering his forehead._

_Locked in those bright green eyes, I fail to notice Edward slowly inching closer until his face is just a couple of short centimeters from mine. With a sharp intake of breath, my gaze instinctively drops to his mouth, where the pink of his lips bleeds slightly past their perfect shape…then there's the small, round birthmark on the left side of his jaw…and finally…his mouth again…gently brushing mine..._

I awakened with a startled gasp. Flushed and bewildered, I jumped out of bed and sprinted to the small washroom in the corner of the cabin, splashing cool water onto my overheated face. Then I made my way to the windows in my well-appointed train car and pressed my feverish forehead against the cool windowpane.

The world whizzed by in blurs of black, brown and moss. Trees, grass and ebony sky fused and merged into one big obscurity only faintly illuminated by stars and moon. When I pressed the tips of my fingers to my lips, I could still feel the dream humming and breathing around me: the warmth of the summer sun, the cool droplets from the river, the musical sound of Edward's laughter…the heat of his mouth.

With another sharp gasp, I quickly slipped back into bed, squeezing my eyes shut as I waited for morning…

…when I'd finally be back in Forks.

OOOOOOOOOO

It was the summer of 1937. The nation was still gripped tightly in the bowels of depression and faced unemployment in the multi-millions. Rain still refused to alleviate the situation in the midwestern states of the country, and the latest gossip from abroad was that of the Duke of Windsor - formerly King Edward VIII until his abdication the previous year – who'd just married his divorced, American girlfriend, _Wallis Simpson._

But none of that affected me as I spent the first week of my summer vacation in Chicago with my dad and my friend, Jacob.

Jacob was fifteen that summer. Tall and dark-skinned due to his dad's mixed heritage, he had the build of a strong man in his twenties due to having to work manual labor to ensure that he and his father would have a roof over their heads and food on the table.

I, on the other hand, was petite and thin-boned despite the healthy diet Papa Phil's money provided me. At just shy of thirteen, I had no chest nor curves to speak of. My long, wavy hair was just about the only physical attribute of which I was proud in those days, which was why I refused to cut it into the stylish bobs that were all the rage at the time. Other than for my hair, I might as well have been a twelve-year old boy.

At least, that was how _I_ saw myself.

One day, Jacob and I sat at the picture house, waiting to watch _A Day at the Races_ with the Marx Brothers, when a newsreel showing scenes of the Hindenburg exploding all over Lakehurst, New Jersey brought tears to my eyes. I remembered that day years ago when I'd seen it at the World's Fair with Dad…and I remembered discussing it with Edward that first summer in Forks. Anyway, while all these thoughts were going through my head, Jacob pulled me into his side to comfort me.

After that, he began acting…strange.

His eyes would follow me everywhere: as we sat and listened to _The Guiding Light _on the radio or as we sat on the porch with Uncle Billy and Dad or as we played Monopoly on the kitchen table.

Then he developed a serious problem with getting a sentence out in one try.

"Isabella, I…I...uhm…I was wondering if you…you know…do you want to go…uhm…sit on the…uh porch?"

One evening, Dad and Billy went inside early, and Jacob and I were left out on the porch playing marbles.

"Your turn," I said.

"Your hair has always been so pretty, Isabella." His fingers carefully trailed down my long strands.

"Thanks. Hey, Jacob, if I hit your shooter on my next turn-"

I fail to recall exactly what rule of play I was going on about because when I looked up, Jacob's face was suddenly just a few short inches from mine.

Gripped in terror, I sat frozen as Jacob's face began to inch closer. It wasn't until he closed his dark eyes that I jumped up.

"I…uhm…I think I hear Dad calling me," I blurted, and ran inside.

Needless to say, the last few days in Chicago were somewhat awkward.

##########

Isabella reaches out to stroke my ivory hair. "Your hair _has_ always been so wavy and beautiful, Nana. I do remember when it was darker, and Grandpa…Grandpa would say my hair was the same shade as yours."

She gives me a melancholic smile, her eyes firmly on my hair. But then she chuckles.

"Oh my goodness, Nana, a fifteen-year-old boy almost kissing you when you were only twelve! How scandalous that must've been in those times!"

"First, I was almost thirteen. Second, I'll have you know that most of my schoolmates had already had their first kiss – or so they claimed." I roll my eyes. "Times haven't changed all that much, Child."

"All right, all right." She grins. "Go on, Nana. Tell me what happened next. Did you end up letting Jacob kiss you before you left Chicago?"

"No, I didn't. And it wasn't because I wasn't curious or because I didn't find Jacob to be quite handsome."

"It was because you'd already decided who was going to get your first kiss, hadn't you?"

I smile softly. "Yes."

"The copper-haired boy?"

I gaze far into the horizon, my eyes taking in the scenery…but almost eighty years in the past.

"Yes. The copper-haired boy…"

##########

Once again, I was met with a couple of surprises when I arrived in Forks that summer.

For one, Edward had grown even more. He was now just about even with Masen, possibly even an inch or so taller.

The other surprise was the boy running around with Masen and Edward. He was thin and lanky, though a few inches shorter than the Cullen brothers, with a messy head of muddy-blond hair that matched his muddy denim overalls.

Alice had written me about Jasper Whitlock, who'd moved down from the territory of Alaska. Descended from Alaskan gold-rush miners turned sled-dog trainers, Jasper Whitlock and his family were now trying their luck at logging in the mountains of Washington. Jasper was fifteen, just like Edward, and from what Alice had written, he and Edward had become good friends.

In all honesty, on first sight, I was wary of this boy and how his introduction into our group would affect dynamics.

At least I didn't have to worry about Sandy. As soon as she saw me, she jumped onto the footbridge and took off running. I knelt on the grass, hugging her tightly to me and laughing as she licked my face. Then Alice was yelling and running towards me, followed by the rest.

"Jasper, this is Bella, my very best friend in the whole wide world!" Alice said by way of introduction.

"How do you do, Little Girl?"

He bowed low, and though he was obviously teasing me, there was this easy manner about him, this laid-back, friendly way he had that instantly made him likeable. Besides, I was sure I knew who'd put him up to the "Little Girl" bit.

I turned my gaze to the probable culprit, and…it wasn't just the fact that in a few summers, Edward had gone from just a tad bit above me to just a tad bit above his brother, there was a new…rugged look to him. Bits of copper fuzz were visible over his top lip, along his jaw line, and when he grinned, his eyes shone, and his jaw angled into a perfect square. Despite the quick growth spurt, he wasn't lanky; he knew how to carry his height, standing confident and self-assured.

My recurring dream suddenly returned, and feeling my face flush, I looked away.

But the damage to my almost-thirteen-year-old heart had already been done.

OOOOOOOOOO

By the end of that first afternoon with Jasper, I realized that he fit as if he'd always been part of our group, and he and I got along as if we'd known each other just as long.

Later on, squeezed together side by side on the tire swing under the evergreen while Rose sat on the grass, Alice and I caught up as we watched the boys roughhousing a few yards away while Sandy ran circles around all of us.

I learned that now that they were sixteen, Rose and Masen's relationship was no longer a secret – though being out in the open also meant being watched more closely.

I learned about Alice's crushes throughout the year.

I learned that this past school year, Edward practically had to beat the girls away with a stick.

"They buzz around him like bees to honey," she chuckled.

"Does he have a sweetheart?" I asked, hoping I was the only one who heard the way my voice shook.

"Nope," Rose answered. "Not yet."

"How 'bout you, Bella?" Alice asked. "Have you had any crushes this year?"

"Only on Clark Gable," I lied and then quickly changed the subject. "Why does Jasper limp?"

"He was born with one leg shorter than the other," Alice said. "But he's just as fast and strong as my brothers. Look! He's got Edward pinned!"

Jasper did indeed have Edward pinned to the ground, but then Edward growled and flipped them over, and then Masen jumped in and flung them both to the hard, muddy earth.

"At least Edward has found someone with whom to fight without getting into trouble," I mused.

"Edward has always been full of extra energy," Rose said.

"Hey, don't you think Jasper is handsome?" Alice asked. There was a dreamy quality to her voice that made me stop swinging.

At fourteen, Alice was taller and more physically developed than I. Sure, I knew I _looked_ just like Mother, but other than my face and hair, I had nothing that screamed "Girl!" the way Alice and Rose did.

I tilted my head sideways and studied the new boy, imagining him with washed and brushed hair instead of the bird's nest he had now. I imagined the mud in the creases of his forehead and cheeks gone, and I pictured those filthy denim overalls after a good scrub.

"I suppose he's handsome," I allowed.

Yet my eyes strayed to the boy roughhousing with him and Masen. His copper hair was as equally wild and dirty as Jasper's, and his face was the same muddy mess, as were his shirt and corduroys. But when I looked at him…I didn't need to imagine him all washed to find him handsome.

Clean or dirty, tall or short, there would never be a boy as dreamy as Edward Cullen.

OOOOOOOOOO

One evening in late July, I'd been allowed to go to the Cullen's for supper again. Mother was never too happy about this, but I was growing and learning, and I always made sure to ask permission from Papa Phil.

Jasper had been invited as well, and all throughout supper, he regaled us with tales of the Iditarod races for which his grandfather had once raised Alaskan Huskies. See, he didn't just _like_ animals the way Masen did, Jasper believed that dogs were as smart as humans and could be trained to do just about anything. He told us about dogs that had sniffed out missing people buried under snow, about dogs that had been used after the Great San Francisco Earthquake of '06 to dig out survivors under rubble. He would look at Sandy and tell me about all the wonderful things she could do if I just trained her right, and something about the way he humanized Sandy and her fellow canine's abilities fascinated me. I spent a whole lot of time that summer with Jasper while he patiently taught Sandy to dig out my hair bows or my sweaters from under two feet of dirt.

Edward on the other hand, had been teasing me more than usual all summer. He'd regressed to calling me "Little Girl" again, more than he had the previous couple of summers. He'd roll his eyes and call me a "silly little thing" when I'd ask Jasper all my questions. It didn't feel so much malicious as much as a desire to keep me in my place as the "little girl" of the group – when I was so anxious that summer to prove myself anything but.

After dinner that night, we spent some time messing around with Esme's piano. Jasper and I shared the piano bench while I tried to teach him Mozart pieces and he played very bad chopsticks renditions.

Edward abruptly snapped at us. "Will you two stop that? I'm trying to listen to _The Woodbury Soap Hour."_

"He's just jealous cuz I play better than he does," Jasper whispered loudly.

"You think you play better than me with your tone deaf, no-talent, rickety, weak old fingers?" Edward hissed.

Jasper smiled, but kept right on playing.

"Edward, why don't you play for us, Son?" Esme suggested.

"Nah," Edward said, as he always did.

"Come on, Edward," I pleaded. "I've never heard you play. I bet you don't really play at all," I said, in a sudden mood to pay him back for all the teasing he'd been doing of me lately.

Edward raised a brow my way. "You think I can't play, huh?"

"That's what I think," I grinned.

His eyes shifted from me to Jasper and back. Then with a strange expression, he made his way to the piano and tapped Jasper's shoulder, jerking his thumb.

"Hit the road, Whitlock."

When Edward took a seat next to me, his long leg brushed against mine, and my stomach fluttered just as it did whenever I dreamed of him. Then he turned and grinned at me.

"All right, Little Girl," he smirked, "Let me show you something about playing, and don't you say you didn't ask for it."

I chuckled again, but it was a weird, shaky chuckle, and I prayed no one could see the way my chest heaved while Edward made a big show of weaving his long fingers together and stretching his lean arms up over his head.

"Gotta loosen those magic appendages," he explained with a wink my way that made butterflies dance in my belly.

And then with an exaggerated sigh, Edward began playing, his fingers moving swiftly and expertly over the keys. Then, he began singing:

_In some secluded rendezvous__  
><em>_That overlooks the avenue__  
><em>_With someone sharing a delightful chat__  
><em>_Of this and that__  
><em>_And cocktails for two_

_As we enjoy a cigarette__  
><em>_To some exquisite chansonnette__  
><em>_Two hands are sure to slyly meet beneath__  
><em>_A serviette__  
><em>_With cocktails for two_

Carlisle set his paper down. "Edward, I don't believe that's an appropriate song, young man."

"It gets better, Dad," Edward assured Carlisle.

_My head may go reeling__  
><em>_But my heart will be obedient__  
><em>_With intoxicating kisses__  
><em>_For the principal ingredient_

"Edward…" Esme warned, but Edward kept right on playing.

_Most any afternoon at five__  
><em>_We'll be so glad we're both alive__  
><em>_Then maybe fortune will complete her plan__  
><em>_That all began__  
><em>_With cocktails for two_

I clapped my hands wildly. "Edward, what was that?"

He grinned smugly. "That's Duke Ellington, Little Girl."

Esme shook her head ruefully. "Edward, if Bella's parents were here, they'd never allow her to visit again."

Edward kept his eyes on me. "She ain't a baby no more, but just in case, we'll have to make sure they never find out."

Then he winked again, and I had to remind myself how to breathe. "Can you teach me to play that?"

"Now see what you've done, Son?" Carlisle scolded.

Edward and I looked at one another and laughed as if we had no real cares in the world.

Because at that point in our lives, we didn't.

OOOOOOOOOO

As fascinated as I'd been in the beginning of the summer by Jasper and his dog training skills, they failed to hold a candle to piano lessons from Edward. It didn't take too much convincing to keep me indoors with him on the piano instead of running around with Jasper and the rest for the next couple of weeks.

By the time my thirteenth birthday gala rolled around at the end of August, I was an expert at a couple of jazz pieces Edward had taught me, yet knowing Mother as I was beginning to, it was Master Mozart that I regaled everyone with.

"Maybe next year, I'll play a Duke Ellington piece for my birthday," I mused jokingly once I was done.

Peter, who had arrived with his parents a few days earlier, made a comment which only echoed my thoughts.

"Isabella, I highly doubt your mother will allow you to play Duke Ellington for your next birthday gala."

"She can play whatever she wants. If she likes jazz, why shouldn't she play jazz?" Edward scowled.

"I didn't say she shouldn't be _able_ to play what she wants; I merely said I doubt her mother will allow her to do so."

"Someday, she'll be an adult, making her own decisions."

Peter laughed. "That's easily said by someone like you."

Edward stepped closer to Peter. Once, Peter had towered over him, but it hadn't stopped Edward then. And now that Edward was the slightly taller one, it still made no difference. They were like oil and vinegar, those two.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Isabella is Philip Dwyer's daughter," Peter said matter-of-factly. "There are certain expectations that will always come with that."

"Expectations," Edward sneered, glaring at Peter. "Well as someone _like me_ would know, expectations and a shiny, new nickel'll get you nothing more than a bottle of soda pop."

For a few, strained moments, it seemed as if Peter was going to have some sort of retort. But then he simply swallowed.

"Yes, I suppose it will."

OOOOOOOOOO

The tension of the moment passed, and a few of us went outside to enjoy the cooler evenings August always brought with it; a reminder that our time together was growing short.

And that I still hadn't confessed my wish to Edward.

As Alice and I slowly swung on the swings in the big, back yard, I wondered aloud what Edward and Jasper were discussing under a tree a few yards away.

"Bella…"

I looked at Alice, who drew in a deep breath. "Yesterday evening, before he went home…Jasper told me he was sweet on me. But I told him I had to think about it. I wanted to talk to you first to make sure you weren't sweet on him!"

"You think I'm sweet on Jasper?" I asked incredulously.

She shrugged. "Well, I have wondered…I mean, you've both gotten along really well this summer…"

"That's because I enjoy the things he teaches Sandy. It doesn't mean I'm sweet on him!"

"Bella, you're my best friend above all, and if it bothers you-"

"Alice," - I placed my right hand on my flat chest - "I'm not sweet on him. I promise." Then I grinned. "Is he going to be your beau now?"

She studied me carefully for a few seconds, and then satisfied, Alice squealed with excitement.

"I think that may be what he's talking to Edward about!"

By now, Jasper was making his way to us. His expression, for once, revealed nothing.

"Uhm, I think I'll give you both a moment alone!"

I giggled and ran to Edward, who was now sitting against the tree trunk, writing in his journal. He slammed it shut when I approached.

I adjusted the back of my dress and took a seat next to him.

"What were you and Jasper going on about?"

He snorted and gave me a look of mock irritation.

"Boy, you're gettin' to be as nosy as that sister of mine, you know that?"

"Well?"

He laughed, looking away from me. His long legs were bent at the knee while his elbows rested lazily over them as he gazed out at the mostly empty backyard.

"I don't know if I should tell you outright. It might…hurt your feelings."

"Does he want to be Alice's beau?"

His eyes flashed back to me. "How'd you know that?"

"Alice told me he spoke to her yesterday evening."

Edward scowled, glaring at Jasper, who was now quietly talking to Alice. "Why that little fink! He told me he hadn't spoken to her yet!"

"Why would that hurt my feelings?"

He gave me a sidelong look. "I wasn't sure if…you were sweet on him. You've spent a lot of time with him this summer."

"He knows a lot about dogs that do special things." I shrugged. "I think it's interesting."

"That's it?" he asked.

"That's it," I shrugged again.

"Oh." He chuckled, but then a deep crease formed between his brows. "Well, what about Peter?"

"What about Peter?"

He held my gaze for one long moment before shaking his head. "Nothing. Never mind."

"Why did Jasper speak to you about being Alice's beau, not to your dad or even Masen?"

He shrugged. "It's always been my job to look out for you girls. That's just the way it is."

We sat silently for a few minutes, watching the evening breeze dance through the manicured grass.

"Edward…"

"Yeah?"

"How come you don't have a sweetheart? Alice told me there's lots of girls who would love to be your sweetheart."

He gave me a scalding look through his long eyelashes. "Boy, is there anything you and Alice don't beat your gums over?"

"Well?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he busied himself pulling out blades of grass from their roots.

"That right there has a long and complicated answer, Little Girl, and I'd rather not get into it right now."

"Why not?" I pushed.

He simply shook his head, refusing to look at me.

I sighed. "So is Jasper going to ask Alice to be his sweetheart?"

"No," he snorted. "At least not yet."

"Why not? I thought that's-"

"Alice is still too young to have a beau. I told him to wait until she's sixteen."

I narrowed my eyes. "Well that doesn't sound fair at all. Masen and Rose have been sweethearts since they were thirteen."

"Masen is smart and knows what he's doing. Alice is just a kid."

I pursed my lips. "You're just saying that because she's a girl."

The wry grin curving around his mouth filled me with indignation.

"So you'd say the same thing about me?"

When he chuckled again, my indignation multiplied.

"I may be young, Edward, but I know what I want."

"Do you now? Then tell me, Little Girl, what is it that you want? A pony? A diamond ring? A pretty, new dress?"

He'd been teasing me all summer, but perhaps it was the way he was teasing me now, with an unfamiliar tone of maliciousness. Perhaps it made me reckless. Perhaps it was merely the heat of the moment. Or perhaps it was because I'd spent all summer wanting this.

"I want…a kiss."

He reeled back, apparently not expecting that answer.

"A kiss?" As if some sudden thought had struck him, he raised both brows and turned his gaze towards the house. "A kiss from _who_?" he hissed.

Swallowing thickly, I forced myself to push forward.

"A kiss…from _you_."

If I hadn't been so gripped by near-hysteria, I may have found it comical how quickly Edward jumped to his feet.

"From _me_?" he howled before looking around to make sure no one had heard him. "From _me_?" he repeated in a much quieter hiss.

"Yes," I said, looking up at him as calmly as I could manage. "From you."

His eyes widened, green eyes frenzied as he raked a clearly shaking hand through his hair.

"Bella, Little Girl, what are you saying? You're too young to be talking about kisses!"

"Edward." I stood as well, facing him squarely. "I'm not ten years old anymore. I'm thirteen now. The same age Masen and Rose were when they first became sweethearts."

He gaped at me, voice quivering. "First of all, you're not thirteen just yet. You've still got a few weeks for that."

"I'll be a teenager in three weeks."

"You don't know what you're talking about," he breathed, shaking his head while his chest heaved. "You're talking crazy is what you're talking. I mean, I'm over here moaning about Jasper and Alice because she's only fourteen, and you're asking me to kiss you, and you're not even thirteen! I'm _fifteen_, Bella!"

My heart constricted painfully, but I refused to give up. "Fine, you want me to be older? I'll wait until next summer when I'll be almost fourteen."

There was no humor in his responding chuckle. "Just like that," he sneered. "We'll wait 'til next summer, as if there's nothing else to ponder, nothing else to think about, no other obstacles."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

His evergreen eyes locked on mine, and when he reached out as if to touch me, I drew in a deep breath - which I released in disappointment when his hand fell away. Then he took a step back, and for a few seconds, simply held my gaze.

He dropped his head and let out a short chuckle.

Then another.

And another.

Pretty soon, he was laughing so hard he dropped to his knees and had to hold his stomach.

"Bella," he spoke through his chuckles, "Bella, you're so young and innocent. You don't even see, do you? You just don't."

It hurt. Of course it did. But I suppose I'd been dreaming of Edward's kiss for too long to stop now.

"Are you saying no?"

Edward's head whipped up. He stopped laughing and swallowed thickly.

But he didn't say no.

"You're crazy," he repeated, but his voice shook again, and it carried no conviction whatsoever.

"You're not saying no to me, Edward."

"Bella-"

I cut him off and spoke quickly. "I understand that I caught you by surprise, and I know that the summer is almost over and that I'll be leaving soon. Say not now, but don't say no."

"Bella, you don't understand. It's not that easy-"

"Just don't say no, Edward. I may be young, and I may be innocent, but I know what I want. And what I want more than anything in the world…is for my first kiss to be yours."

##########

Isabella throws her head back and laughs hysterically.

"Nana," she cries, "that was epic! How did you work up the nerve for all that? So did he kiss you at the end of that summer or did he wait until the following summer?"

I smile tenderly at her. "To this day, I have no idea how I worked up the nerve. I suppose I was more frightened of not telling him how I felt than of telling him. And no, he didn't kiss me that summer, though I did fully expect him to be my first kiss the following summer."

I sigh deeply, remembering.

"But sometimes…as Edward himself once said…expectations and a shiny, new nickel'll buy you nothing more than a bottle of soda pop."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thoughts?**

**AOI Playlist Song #10: **_**They Can't Take That Away From Me**_** (1937) by Fred Astaire **

_**The way your smile just beams**__**  
><strong>__**The way you sing off key**__**  
><strong>__**The way you haunt my dreams**__**  
><strong>__**No, no, they can't take that away from me**_

******All right, Guys, The Age of Innocence will be back on Monday, Jan. 5****th**** 2015!**

******Next Week, Monday, Dec. 15****th****, we'll begin a five-part outtake to Spin & Sway, updating daily!**

**Twitter: PattyRosa817**

**Link to 'Stories by PattyRose' is on my profile page.**

**Have a great weekend!**


	10. Chapter 9 - Aching

**A/N: Happy New Year All!**

**Hope everyone enjoyed the holidays and that you're all starting off the New Year exactly the way you want to. :)**

**Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes.**

**Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9 - Aching <strong>

During the summer of 1938, the nation continued its struggle with unemployment and with a midwestern drought that refused to abate. Meanwhile, Europe was in the midst of a political struggle with a German dictator hell-bent on annexing countries on her nation's borders regardless of threats and warnings. In the U.K., gas masks were handed out to her citizens as a precaution because no one was quite sure of what that dictator was capable.

It was the twilight of peace for an entire continent, yet as the _21__st__ Century Limited_ left behind the hilly landscape of the east coast in the U.S. and wound its way into the Midwest, these were all the least of an almost-fourteen-year-old girl's worries. I was well fed, well-dressed, well-educated, and sleeping safely and usually soundly every night. Though I did have my own concerns, they had nothing to do with madmen running rampant in a land far, far away.

Not yet.

For the time being, the first thing that had butterflies fluttering nervously about in the pit of my stomach was the thought of having to face Jacob again after last year's near-kiss fiasco. Nevertheless, by the end of my first day back in Chicago, I realized that my months of worry had been for naught.

Jacob and I loved each other too much to let a silly thing like an almost-kiss come between us. Through an unspoken agreement, we pretended that the "almost-kiss" had never even happened. We laughed and talked easily, we listened to _Information Please _on the radio; we even took in a Saturday matinee together. By the end of that week, I was sure that if Jacob still wanted to kiss me, he didn't want it badly enough to risk our friendship – for which I was entirely grateful.

With that first concern resolved, I could now focus more fully on the second thing that had me tied in knots for months: the rioting mess of new and exciting needs and wants I'd been experiencing since the previous summer. Privileged enough to have all my basic and not-so-basic needs and wants met, what I wanted and needed more than anything in the world was my first, real kiss…

But not from just anyone…

##########

"From the copper-haired boy?" Isabella questions knowingly.

I nod my head and sigh. "From the copper-haired boy."

##########

On the occasion of my 1938 arrival in Forks, I made my way to the river with quick and airy steps. When Sandy emerged from between the thicket of branches and bushes, I squealed in delight, and she in turn whimpered happily when she spotted me, jumping up and putting her paws against my legs. Four years old now, Sandy could no longer be considered a puppy, yet she reacted with the same open, innocent joy she always did when I returned. As for me, I giggled aloud because despite Mother's less-than-euphoric yearly receptions and despite my stepsister Lauren's presence this summer, I lived for these moments; I lived for these months.

Kneeling over the grass, I ran the palm of my hand back and forth over Sandy's shaggy, sand-colored mane.

"I missed you too, Girl. What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

Alice and Jasper emerged from between the trees just then, and Alice quickly ran to me. One year is a long time for best friends to be apart, especially when you're at that stage between childhood and womanhood, and all you want to do is gossip and compare notes. Last year, I hadn't known how to express to Alice what I felt for her brother. Introducing the subject over our periodic letters hadn't seemed appropriate either.

But this year, kisses were always on my mind: Hollywood kisses, kisses in songs, kisses my friends shared, kisses I didn't want, and especially…kisses I was yearning for…

"Were you and Jasper sneaking kisses?" I asked as we made our way to the river with Jasper whistling behind us.

The summer before, Edward had put a waiting period on their relationship, but only _I_ knew that despite Jasper's valiant attempts, the waiting period had lasted about as long as it had taken Alice to bat her pretty eyelashes. Fifteen-year-old Alice Cullen had already had her first kiss – and her second, third and fourth…

And apparently now, her fifth.

"Just one," she whispered close to my ear. "We didn't mean to, but Sandy took off running, and I came after her…"

I giggled. "Now that we're together, you'll have to describe kissing to me better," I whispered back. "You write so sloppy that I could barely read the descriptions in your letters!"

"Oh, Bella!" she squealed under her breath, closing her eyes. "It's like…like the sun suddenly shines on only you, giving only you its heat and warmth and making you tingle all the way down to your toes!"

I grinned, closing my own eyes at her wonderful description.

At that age where romance first blossoms inside a young girl's heart and mind, her imagination can run pretty wild. I'd therefore spent the past year imagining myself as a starlet in a Hollywood movie…except instead of Ginger Rogers, it was me…and instead of Fred Astaire, it was Edward who would pull me into his arms, tilt me back, snake one arm around my waist and kiss me until I forgot how to breathe.

##########

"Humph," I snort, amused by the recollection of my almost-fourteen-year-old-girl musings.

"Well, isn't that how it happened?"

The unexpected voice startles me. When I look to my side, Skye (or it might be Olivia) is sitting there cross-legged, and when I turn my head to the other side, her twin sister is there.

"Now when did you two join us?"

"We've been sitting here for a while, Nana," Olivia (Skye) informs me. "Since the campout with the ghost story where you ended up peeing on yourself." She wraps an arm around my shoulder. "By the way, don't feel bad about that, Nana. I farted in front of the captain of the football team once. Now please continue; I want to hear all about this kiss in detail!" She rubs her palms together.

"Girls, stop rushing Nana," Isabella scolds. "Okay, Nana, continue please," she says, sounding just as anxious as her girls.

I sigh. "All right, all right."

##########

Well, I could hear the river before I could see it. The lulling roar of the flowing current and whitewater breaking against the rocks by the banks were familiar and comforting sounds, ones that always managed to bring a smile to my face. I smiled even wider when I heard Masen and Rose's voices rise above the water and quickened my steps.

Alice's laughter followed me as I rushed forward. "Bella, wait! There's actually something crazy I've got to tell you!"

Rose and Masen were indeed in the water, splashing around just as I'd imagined them. But my attention was diverted from them because Edward was walking towards me.

Every year, the real Edward was always so different from the one my memory allowed from the previous summer: always taller, his features always ruggedly sharper, and his jaw always more chiseled than the year before. His hair was shorter than I'd ever seen it that summer, cropped close on the sides and just a bit longer on top, and though he'd always been lean, there was an athletic, muscular build to him he hadn't had before.

But these were all things I noted in my periphery, in the small part of my brain that wasn't currently bewildered by the sight before me; at the sight of Edward smiling while he held Jessica Stanley's hand wrapped inside his.

"Hey, Bella."

"We've been waiting for you, Isabella," Jessica grinned.

I'll admit that at first, I had a difficult time making sense of what I was seeing. Young and naïve, I tilted my head sideways, studying their linked hands, shifting my eyes back up and over them while my mind slowly made the connection; while all my Hollywood-themed fantasies drifted away, carried off in the wind like broken leaves after a thunderous storm.

"I see Sandy found you. She's been excited all day, like she could sense you were coming. When she took off running, I knew it was you. I just knew…"

He trailed off, and thankfully, Alice shoved her arm through mine and pulled me away.

"Isn't that just the most ridiculous thing you've ever seen?" she whisper-laughed. "Honestly, of all the girls he's had moony-eyed over him in school all year, he courts Jessica Stanley! Jessica Stanley, who giggles like a horse and has boobs as big as tropical pineapples!"

I could only manage to nod dumbly. My voice had gotten lost somewhere between my constricted heart and the lump in my throat.

##########

"Oh, Nana," Olivia (Skye) whispers, placing a young, smooth hand over my much older, spotted one.

I smile and pat her hand. "You children think we older folk don't understand, but I'll tell you this: a broken heart in 1938 is just as painful as is a broken heart nowadays. And I'll tell you something else." I sigh deeply, gazing off into the distant woods. "The memory of a broken heart can make you ache as much at ninety as it did at thirteen."

##########

"Your letters didn't mention that Edward and Jessica are sweethearts."

I mentioned this to Alice as coolly as possible later that afternoon. She and I were on the tire swing under the evergreen while the day's cool breeze blew through our hair.

"That's because it just happened," Alice said, "right before his birthday."

There was so much more I wanted to ask but had no idea how. Luckily, I could always count on Alice to volunteer as much information as possible.

"He's had a few girls after him this year, now that he's grown into his skin, as Mama says," she snickered. "They follow him and Jasper everywhere, in school and to their baseball games. Some of the hussies even make smoochy faces at them," she scowled. "Can you believe that? Anyway, Jasper doesn't pay them any mind," she assured me, "and neither does Edward really, not even that floozy Tanya, who followed him down all the halls in school this year."

"Has he kissed Jessica?" I asked, stupidly holding my breath.

"'Course he has," Alice smirked. "Otherwise, what would be the point?"

It was as if an arrow had pierced through the soft, young layers of my naïve heart.

"Anyway," Alice chuckled, unaware of what her detailed information was doing to me, "we had no idea he liked her that way. He gets crabby if any of us say anything, says it's no one's business but his who he courts, so we leave him alone, but my goodness, Jessica Stanley! It's weird, isn't it?"

And all the while, all I could think of was how stupid I'd been. Tall, smart, strong and beautiful, sixteen-year-old Edward Cullen…with so many pretty girls after him. And here I was barely fourteen and built like a young boy, and only in Forks for two months out of the long year. What had I truly expected?

"Bella?"

"What? Oh yeah, yes. Yes."

OOOOOOOOOO

It was a cold summer, rainier than usual. The boys were working now, odd jobs in town for Masen and Jasper as well as helping around their parents' places while Edward had given up his paper route to one of the younger, local kids and traded up to a store clerk's job at Jessica's parents' mercantile.

Alice and I therefore spent more time than usual alone, out of the river more than in it due to the weather. I was grateful I'd never gotten around to telling her what I felt for her brother, as it wasn't something I would've wanted to explore in the detail she always required. Once the summer was over and I was back on the _Union Builder_ heading east, I'd let myself take inventory of the damage that had been done.

Still, I won't say I moped around all summer because I didn't.

"What do you think he means by 'aching' Bella?" Alice asked me one afternoon mid-July. We were lying on the moist grass by the evergreen, just her and me. She'd been describing kisses to me again. It was harder to pay attention now that it seemed I wouldn't be getting _my_ kiss this summer, but I listened patiently because she was my best friend.

"He tells me that after he kisses me, he aches all over, and I don't really know what that means."

"Hmm." I frowned and lifted myself on my elbows. "I'm not exactly sure, but…when Dad took me to the movies and Clark Gable gazed all moony-eyed at Claudette Colbert, it kind of made my belly tingle in a strange way. I suppose you could've called it an ache."

"I think I know what you mean," she said thoughtfully, mimicking my pose. "It's like when I caught Masen and Rose behind the barn, kissing and moaning, and then Masen reached out and touched Rose's boob-"

"He didn't!" I whispered in shock.

"Yes, he did," Alice confirmed with a sly smile that let me know she'd just been dying for a way to squeeze that little tidbit into the conversation. "They didn't see me watching, and Masen started moaning louder and louder, sounding like he was truly aching somewhere. Anyway, it made me feel all funny in my belly too." She lay back down.

It was a few minutes before I could speak. "Wow."

I lay back down while small pellets of rain drizzled down over us, yet I kept my eyes on the grey sky above, blinking against the drops that landed over my lids.

"Bella, why didn't you let Jacob kiss you last summer?"

"I don't really know." I shrugged.

She turned on her side, propping herself up on one elbow. "Well, you've said he's got the looks of Errol Flynn and the personality of Jimmy Stewart, so he sounds pretty dreamy."

I nodded.

"And you do like him."

Again, I nodded. Of course I liked Jacob. I loved Jacob.

Propping myself on my elbow as well, I asked, "Tell me again what you feel when you kiss Jasper."

Alice closed her eyes. "When his lips touch mine, it feels…it feels like I'm floating in heaven itself, yet every single part of my body feels like it's burning."

"How can you feel like you're burning if you're in heaven?"

"You just can, Bella. You can."

OOOOOOOOOO

The cool, mountain breeze caressed my face, like warm fingers against my skin despite the chill in the air. When I opened my eyes, I was met with a set of deep evergreen ones gazing down at me.

"You fell asleep," Edward said. He was sitting next to me on the grass, one of his hands suspended in mid-air, halfway between us. He quickly raked it through his hair.

I sat up slowly, rubbing from my eyes the confusion that muddles your mind in those first few seconds after waking.

"Where's Alice?"

He shrugged. "Probably hiding somewhere with Jasper. Those two think I don't know what's going on," he scowled.

My mind beginning to clear, I bristled at his comment. "It's not for you to say when Jasper and Alice are old enough to love each other."

"Love each other?" Edward crooked a sardonic brow. "Alice is only fifteen, Bella. She has no idea what love is."

"And you do?" He looked away from me, and the ache that I'd been trying so hard to suppress for weeks now threatened to break free. "Have you fallen in love this summer, Edward?"

His eyes flashed quickly back to mine as if I'd totally caught him off guard. At first I thought he wouldn't answer, but then he shook his head.

"See, that's proof of how young you are. Not everything has to do with love, Bella."

"Then why, Edward? Why?"

He held my gaze intently, yet this time he did refuse me an answer.

I swallowed thickly. "Was she your first kiss?"

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he nodded.

"You're breaking my heart."

I whispered it in the wind, and if it wasn't for the sudden pain and misery that shot through his expression, I wouldn't even have thought it audible. Bending his knees and resting his forearms over them, he dropped his head and shook it from side to side.

"I should've never let you say those things last summer. I…I don't want to hurt you, but you don't understand that because you're so young, and you think everything is so simple. Well, it's not, Little Girl," he hissed almost angrily. "You don't _know_ what you feel. You think you know what's real, but you don't, and soon all of this will be forgotten, and you and I will be back to normal, and it'll be better that way. You'll see."

I've no idea if he knew that every word he spoke just made the hole he'd opened in my chest gape even more. As a child, I'd been mesmerized by Dad's sad smiles; now I was masochistically captivated by the way in which Edward's lips moved miserably around each heart-wrenching syllable.

I thought of Jacob then, of how things had gone back to normal with us this summer after last summer's almost-kiss. I didn't know if he still _wanted_ to kiss me, but if he did, it wasn't enough to risk our friendship.

With a sickening roll of my stomach, I realized that in this situation, _I_ was supposed to be Jacob.

"I'm not a child anymore," I found myself saying shakily. "If you don't feel for me what I feel for you, then I have to accept that, but don't try to tell me that I don't know my heart or that in time I'll forget or that I can't tell the difference between what's real and what's not because I learned that difference a long time ago."

"Bella…"

But I didn't stay to listen to any more. Instead, I forced myself to my feet and walked away.

OOOOOOOOOO

The days dragged. Edward avoided me all the more, and lacking either perspective-giving time or maturity or both, I avoided him as well and did my best to enjoy the rest of the short, summer reprieve I had from the rest of the year. But in those moments when I would fight with self-control, I'd watch Edward and vacillate between regret at not being able to be more like Jacob - and downright fury.

We were by the river one day in mid-August when the boys weren't working. It was another blustery day, as most of the days this summer had been. Regardless, while most had decided to brave the cold sting of the river since we'd been deprived of it so much this season, I sat at one end of the footbridge, laughing at their antics and at Sandy, who kept jumping in and out of the water. I pretended that I couldn't see Edward, Jessica and my stepsister, Lauren sitting together at the other end of the bridge.

Instead, I watched Masen climb one of the trees on the bank of the river and give a yell like Tarzan before jumping from a thick branch and straight into the freezing cold water.

"Oh hell that's cold!" he roared.

"It can't be that bad!" Rose insisted, following suit. Her ensuing scream when she landed inside Masen's cold arms was answer enough.

"Bella, come in! It's not _that_ cold!" Alice called invitingly.

"Your teeth are chattering, and I can see your goose bumps from here!" I laughed.

"Come on, Little Sister!" Jasper yelled. "Leave those scaredy cats there on the footbridge and come on in! Me and Alice'll look out for you!"

"Don't call her in, Jasper; that water's too rough for her today."

Indignation shot through me like an arrow at Edward's nerve to speak for me when he'd barely said a word to me in days. Ignoring him, I simply laughed off Alice and Jasper's invitation.

However, Alice wasn't ready to give up. "Bella, come on! It's been so long since we've all played in the river! Come on!"

Then she and Jasper took up a chorus of "Bella! Bella! Bella!"

The thought of being in that cold river sent shudders through me. I did have on a swimsuit - a pretty, white one-piece, if I recall correctly, with a fitted, scalloped waist and shaped cups that added a bit of curve where nature still refused to tread. And despite the fact that I was still petite, the river only reached me to my neck now. And they did seem to be having loads of fun…

"Bella, you're not going in there."

I turned my eyes sharply towards Edward. Out of my periphery, I could see Lauren and Jessica's eyes on me as well, and it infuriated me all the more.

"Bella, did you finally learn how to swim?"

Jessica had barely said more than two words to me all summer. Today though, her partner in crime was here, and sure enough, Lauren giggled at Jessica's wittiness.

Edward on the other hand wasn't as amused. "Hey, what the hell did I tell you about that?"

"I'm not teasing her," Jessica assured him quickly. "I'm just asking."

I believe they may have argued a bit, yet despite the fact that he was defending me, I couldn't have cared less at that point. I was no longer the little girl he needed to look after, and so I took in that entire discussion secondarily because I was already making my way to the tree, scaling it like an expert: grabbing every nook, poking my feet into every crevice and quietly hissing when I scratched my leg.

As I made my way up to the massive branch, Sandy started barking below me.

"Shh, it's okay, Girl," I said soothingly.

"Bella get down from there!" Edward yelled. "I said you're not going in the river!"

Anger and hurt morphed into drive and determination, and I continued my climb upwards towards the large, wide branch.

"Bella!"

Sandy's barking intensified.

"It's all right, Girl!" I called out.

"Edward, leave her alone!" Alice shouted. "You think you can always tell us what to do!"

"Alice, mind your damn- Bella!"

My heart raced in my chest, but my eyes focused only on the river now below me.

"Bella, get down from there!"

His voice was much closer now, and Sandy's barking turned into howls offered high up into the mountain air.

"Bella, maybe you shouldn't," Jasper said. "Dogs have a sixth sense."

"Bella, just get down," Rose called out.

"Bella, Little Sis, the water's too rough."

"Bella, maybe they're right. Sandy's scaring me," Alice said.

But I simply drew in a deep, steadying breath, steeling myself for the drop as a sudden sense of exhilaration coursed through me.

"Bella! Bella, damn it, reach for my hand and let me get you down from there!" Edward ordered, his voice just a few feet further back.

My windblown hair coiled around my face. I pushed it back briskly.

"Edward Cullen, it's not your job to watch over me! You're not my father or _anyone_ who can tell me what to do!"

I grinned and gazed down at the water with a longing that suddenly felt so freeing. And when I jumped, a low, vicious oath rang out behind me.

The cold was the first thing that startled me. It penetrated my skin like a million, sharp spears, digging through each and every layer until I could feel it all the way into my soul.

Yes, it was…thrilling.

It was as if the river's frigidness had rid me of the constant ache, had made me forget everything even for just the few seconds that I was submerged. Eyes closed, I managed a smile underwater, and for those few seconds before I resurfaced, I truly believed that Edward was correct and that somehow, when I emerged, everything would be set right.

And so with a quick jump, I surfaced, and for that fraction of a second, as I looked at Alice and Jasper, I did wonder at the matching expressions of horror etched on their faces.

But in the next fraction of a second, when a bewilderingly sharp pain shot across the top of my head, all I heard was Edward howling, "NO!" before everything went black.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thoughts?**

**AOI Playlist Song #11: **_**Cry, Baby, Cry (1938)**_** by Larry Clinton and His Orchestra:**

**Cry, baby, cry  
><strong>**Cry, baby, cry  
><strong>**Just the way I did the day you broke my heart****  
><strong>

*****And Happy Birthday to the sweetest, funniest and most dedicated BETA a girl could ever have: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MICHELLE RENKER RHODES! XOXOXOXO*****

**Twitter: PattyRosa817**

**Link to 'Stories by PattyRose' is on my profile page.**

***I'm working on another project right now, so I may not be able to update on Thursday. If I don't, there will be another update next Monday. We shall see. :) ***

**See you in a few days!**


	11. Chapter 10 - Out on the Porch

**A/N: I wasn't sure if I'd be able to update today. I'm working on something else, but you guys were so upset about where we left off the other day. :)**

**While I do have the next few chapters written out, I continually work on them all the way to posting, and I wasn't sure if I'd have time to do that with this chapter. But here you go. :)**

**This and the next chapter were originally supposed to be one chapter, but it was extremely long (and the chapters on this story are already long to begin with), so I split it in two. This guarantees you updates today and next Monday. If I get far enough along in my other project, I'll take a look at the following chapter for this and get it ready for next Thursday.**

**Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes.**

**Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belongs to me.**

**Chapter 10: Summer 1938 (continued) - Out on the Porch**

* * *

><p>The world faded in and out as if a heavy fog had descended around me, and just as the fog would begin to lift, darkness would return. I was trapped in a tunnel with only the most nebulous sights and sounds: murky glimpses of jostling water, blurry arms, panicked faces and Sandy…Sandy trying to jump on me as I lay on the cold, hard ground.<p>

Then everything went black once more.

OOOOOOOOOO

Vague, indistinct sounds returned concurrently with a powerful, heavy pressure that weighed down over my chest.

"Come on, damn it! Wake up! Wake up!"

The weight on my chest increased, pressing down on me harder, with more urgency.

"…lift her legs like Pop says…Ed, you breathe into…"

A hand caressed my face, easing away my hair, and then…warmth…pure, unadulterated warmth.

My eyes popped open.

I coughed and spluttered, regurgitating water and suddenly so, so cold.

"She's awake! She's awake!"

Someone or something licked my face, whimpering at my side while I shivered violently. It took my eyes a few seconds to be able to focus, and when they did, the first thing they focused on was Edward.

He was on his knees next to me, fully dressed and soaked, dripping from head to foot while his breath came in short, heavy spurts. Sandy kept licking me, and I suddenly had the most peculiar sense of déjà vu.

Kneeling on my other side were Masen and Jasper, and standing behind them were Rose and Alice, crying. Jess stood next to them looking stupidly shocked.

"Bella, you're okay," Alice whispered in a choked voice.

"Her head is bleeding really badly," Rose said.

"Head wounds bleed a lot, even superficial ones," Masen said. "We won't know how bad it is until we get her back to the house."

The words were barely out of Masen's mouth when Edward slipped his arms under me, and suddenly, despite how cold I felt and how wet he was, I was surrounded by the most overwhelming warmth as he picked me up and cradled me in his arms, close to his chest.

When my head bounced, a whimper escaped me.

"Careful, Edward! Careful!" Masen said.

"I know!" Edward yelled. The vehemence of his words rattled his chest and reverberated against my head. Slowly, I looked up, but Edward kept his eyes ahead. It didn't prevent me from seeing the fire burning in them though, or his undeniable anger.

"I told you not to jump!"

I blinked a few times, trying to clear the still-billowing fog addling my senses, but my head hurt, and it would be so much easier to simply close my eyes until we arrived…

"Keep your eyes open!"

My eyes startled open.

"Keep 'em open!"

OOOOOOOOOO

After a few minutes, Masen asked Edward to hand me over for a while, but Edward ignored him.

"Edward, she's not as small as she used to be," Masen insisted while Edward kept walking – running really. "You're about to drop her!"

Edward stopped and carefully pulled me away from his chest to transfer me to Masen's arms. As he did, I noticed a big, red stain on his shirt. My hand went up to my head and when it came back, it was soaked in blood.

I made a strangled sound as Masen took me and gently pressed me against his own chest.

"Shh, it's okay, Little Sister," he said soothingly. "You'll be fine, but Pop has to check you."

"I hit my head."

"You sure did. Next time you jump up while in the river, how 'bout making sure you're not surrounded by rocks? Now," he said seriously, "you know the drill. What's your name?"

"Isabella Marie Dwyer."

"What day is it?"

"I…don't know."

"All right," he said slowly. "Do you remember who the President is?"

"Same one as last time I almost died?"

Masen smirked. "Give me his name, Honey."

"Franklin Delano Roosevelt."

"Good," he nodded.

"See? I'm fine. Can you please put me down now? I'm bleeding all over you."

"What's a little blood between little sisters and big brothers?" He chuckled.

After a few minutes, I was handed over to Jasper. Though he was as strong as the others, with his bad leg, it wasn't easy for him to support my weight for very long. He and Alice joked with me to try and get me to ignore the fact that my blood was soaking his chest. I wanted to laugh, to forget my most current pain and humiliation, but my head felt as light and woozy as if it were still underwater, and my chest ached.

"Stay awake, Little Girl," Jasper smiled when he saw my eyes fluttering once more.

"Here, give her back to me."

Though Edward reclaimed me, he made no effort to engage me in any sort of conversation. He didn't smile or crack jokes. The sun peeking through the canopy of branches caught the hair growing around his clenched jaw, highlighting the dark birthmark just barely hidden under the scruff. The long branches left their silhouette along his darkened eyes, bouncing shadows off of his sullen expression.

Yet despite everything, I had the strangest ache to reach out and brush my fingers against that birthmark, to touch it and trace its perfectly round shape. It was something I would've easily done a couple of summers ago when things were so different between us. Instead, I rested my head against his chest and tried to let his warmth, seeping through his wet clothing, kindle my cheek.

"Don't close your eyes," he muttered.

I sighed and looked up at him. "Edward, I'm sorry I didn't listen."

He swallowed, and I felt his chest heaving against my shoulder.

"You want me to treat you differently," he finally said through gritted teeth, "but then you go and act just like a little kid."

I stared at him until it became obvious that he had no intention of meeting my gaze, and then I tore away my eyes, working simply on regulating my labored, painful breaths because he may as well have punched me in the stomach. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to punch him back, to smack his face, to break his perfect nose and blacken those bright, green eyes.

I wanted to rip out his black heart.

But I was a young lady educated at Miss Tudor's, so instead I bit down hard on my lip to keep from saying something that would do no more than confirm Edward's continuing assessment of me. And if anyone had asked, I would've told them that the tears pooling at the corners of my eyes were due to my physical aches and not to the fact that Edward had unequivocally and unapologetically stomped on my heart this summer.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Well, Young Lady, you're very lucky that it only seems to be a mild concussion," Carlisle said as his fingers gently yet thoroughly probed my head. "You'll have to take it easy for the next couple of weeks, and you may experience some dizziness and headaches for the next couple of days, but after that you should be just fine, Sweetheart." Finished with his examination, he sat back on the chair next to Alice's bed and smiled ruefully. "Now I would like to keep an eye on you overnight, and unfortunately, you will need stitches."

"I'll be right here with you, Bella, okay?" Alice said, taking my free hand. "And so will Sandy."

Sandy barked her agreement.

I swallowed thickly. "Carlisle, my chest aches a bit too."

"That's from the compressions Edward administered," Esme, who was sitting at my other side, answered. "It's a good thing he didn't crack any ribs." Then she mused quietly, "He must've been in a panic."

"Why would Edward compress my chest?" I wondered aloud. My chest was compressed enough as it was.

"Some say chest compressions help to get the water out of the lungs," Carlisle clarified.

"Oh."

A fuzzy memory, more of a feeling really, suddenly returned to me. There'd been a…warmth back at the river, an intense, all-consuming warmth I'd felt at one point while Edward and the rest had worked to get me breathing.

Unfortunately, it would be a long time before I found out what that warmth had been.

OOOOOOOOOO

Esme administered the dreadful stitches since she apparently had a more tender touch than Carlisle did. After making sure I was comfortable, she left the room to make me soup while Alice and Sandy kept me company. After a few minutes, we heard voices coming from downstairs, and then Mother walked into Alice's bedroom. She hastily took a seat next to me and picked up my hand, pushing Sandy off the bed when she tried to lick our joined hands.

"Ugh, disgusting beast. Isabella, had you listened to what I've been trying to tell you for years now and stayed away from that river, this would've never happened."

"I simply jumped at the wrong time, Mother."

She shook her head. "I don't know how to make you understand that all this time spent…at the river," she sneered..."is just a waste. These aren't the types of activities that will-"

Though I have an idea now, at the time, I didn't know how her sentence would've ended had Papa Phil not walked into the room just then.

Smiling at me, he walked to the other side of the bed, ruffling Alice's hair before picking up my other hand.

"Isabella, Honey, I believe you really are attempting those broken bones."

"No, Sir. I assure you it was an accident, but I'm okay. Esme- uh, Mrs. Cullen gave me four stitches, and she and Doctor Cullen both agree that I should be fine."

Papa Phil nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I spoke to them. You were lucky – once again. It's a good thing that Masen and Edward are strong, young men and fast thinkers. And your sister, Lauren, came running home quick and eager to let us know what happened."

More likely quick and eager to get me into trouble with Mother, I thought, but only nodded.

"Phil, I trust that this time you'll agree that Isabella needs to stay away from that river?"

Papa Phil rubbed his chin with the pads of his fingers, keeping his eyes on me. "Isabella, from now on, you're not to go into that river unless Masen or Edward are in there with you. Understood?"

"Philip!" Mother cried.

"Do you understand, Isabella?"

And though I couldn't picture Edward and me ever in the river together again, I nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"And what about a doctor?" Mother hissed. "Shouldn't she see a real doctor? She's had stitches for God's sakes!"

Papa Phil slowly turned his gaze towards Mother. "Renee, Darling, Isabella _was_ seen by a real doctor. What's more, our daughter will remain here for the next couple of days so that Esme and Carlisle may keep an eye on her."

"You can't be…" Mother drew in a deep breath, however, we'd both learned quite a few things in the past few years, and one of those things was the shaky ground she chose to tread if she tried to challenge Papa Phil on his defense of his neighbors.

She attempted another avenue. "Philip, Darling, I'm sure that Isabella is well enough to come home with us. Why, just look at her. She looks perfectly well. Whatever care she may need can easily be provided by Mrs. Cope and the rest of the staff."

"Renee, Mrs. Cope and the rest of the staff may be wonderful, but they can't provide Isabella with the type of care Carlisle and Esme will be able to provide her for the next couple of days."

The expression on Mother's face clearly spelled out her ire, but she held her tongue, and after a few, short minutes, I was left in the care of the Cullens.

Esme and Alice helped me bathe so that I wouldn't get my stitches wet, and afterwards, I had supper brought up to me in bed. Alice, Jasper, Masen and Rose kept me company. We played Gin Rummy, and I pretended I believed the excuse that Edward hadn't joined us because he wasn't feeling well himself.

Because of my injury, Esme suggested that Alice and I retire early for the night, and so she and I lay in bed for a while talking while Sandy rested at our feet. Soon, Alice was quietly snoring next to me.

Alone with my thoughts now, I was flooded with memories of the way things used to be between Edward and me: the laughter and the games, and even the times I'd cried in front of him.

Was it my fault? Was I just too…immature, too much of a "Little Girl" as he'd continuously called me, to accept the fact that he only saw me as a friend and nothing more? I couldn't force him to feel for me what I felt for him, and what's more, did I really want to completely lose him over it?

Jacob had been able to let his feelings for me go or to conceal them enough so that they wouldn't affect our relationship. Couldn't I do the same with Edward?

All I knew at that moment was that I missed Edward's presence in my life so badly that it made it hard for me to breathe. When I thought of my summers in Forks, I thought of Sandy and Alice and the rest of the Cullens along with Rose and Jasper – and Mother and Papa Phil, of course.

But if I had to be honest with myself in this small bed, in the quiet of the night, then I had to admit that it was Edward that personified the summers for me...that it was Edward I'd always looked most forward to seeing.

I _couldn't_ lose him completely.

Gently, so as to not disturb the bed and wake Alice and so as not to jostle my still aching head too much, I rose. Sandy picked up her head, wagging her tail.

"Shh, I'll be right back, Girl," I whispered reassuringly. Sandy cocked her head sideways, studying me for a few seconds and then lay back down.

On silent feet, I made my way down the short hallway to the room I knew to be Edward's. I knocked once, twice, and waited, but when there was no answer, I figured that Edward and the rest were probably still up and about downstairs somewhere.

So I took the stairs down in my bare feet. I could hear the radio in the kitchen along with Esme and Carlisle's murmured voices and hushed laughter, but there was no one in the living room. Quietly, I opened the front door and stepped out into the darkened evening, sighing as I looked up at the sky, at the thousands and thousands of stars that we'd all gazed at together that night of the camp out.

In the muted silence of the night, with only the occasional hoot from an owl and the buzzing from the varied insects, I detected low undertones, sort of like humming coming from somewhere behind the house. Following the wrap-around porch all the way to the back, my first thought upon seeing the vague outline of people was that it was Masen and Rose.

They were sitting on the porch swing, and Edward's back was to me, his head tilted sideways while he kissed Jessica, who had her eyes closed as she took his hand and guided it under her blouse.

At my sharp gasp, Jessica's eyes popped open, and Edward's hand quickly fell away. When he turned around, the surprise on his face instantly morphed into horror.

"Bella," he breathed.

I turned and ran.

"Bella!"

I ran up the steps, into Alice's room and quickly shut the door behind me. Resting my back against it while my heart beat out a painful rhythm, I shut my eyes tightly, hoping to be somewhere else far away when I reopened them.

But when I did, I was still there.

My breath hitched when a muffled thump hit the other side of the door. Remaining still and quiet, I pressed my body against the frame.

"Bella," Edward whispered, "Bella, open the door."

"Go away," I whispered back.

"Bella!" A few seconds passed. "Bella, please just let…just let me…I didn't touch…but, you don't understand, Bella. I can't…you'd change _everything_…"

"Just go away," I pleaded, sinking to the floor. Sandy trotted over to my side, whimpering softly and licking the moisture off of my cheeks.

There was another thump. "Bella…"

After a few, long minutes, his footsteps finally retreated.

It wasn't until much, much later that I finally climbed back into bed and hugged Sandy close to me, falling asleep as the sun peeked into the horizon.

###########

"Oh, Nana," Skye (Olivia) says. "Boys are such idiots, whether back in 193- wait what year was it?"

"1938."

"Whether back in 1938 or in 2014, they've all got one thing on the brain, and they let the wrong head guide-"

"Olivia, mind yourself," Isabella reprimands.

"Sorry," she mumbles, sounding anything but.

"Frankly Nana, I don't mean any disrespect, but I would've cursed him out at that point," Isabella says. "Please tell me you simply left that summer with your head held high."

I chuckle ruefully. "Not quite, Darling. That summer wasn't quite done with me yet."

"Jeez, Nana," Olivia (Skye) says, "what else could've possibly happened?"

"Well, I'll tell you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thoughts?**

**AOI Playlist Song #12: **_**I Won't Tell a Soul (that I love you)**_** (1938) by Andy Kirk**

**I won't tell a soul I love you  
>I won't even mention your name<br>For I know I've been a fool, dear  
>And I've only myself to blame<strong>

**Twitter: PattyRosa817**

**Link to 'Stories by PattyRose' is on my profile page.**

**See you guys on Monday! :)**


	12. Chapter 11 - Apples to Apples

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts. I truly appreciate them all. **

**Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes. **

**Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11 (1938 continued) – Apples to Apples<strong>

The next morning, breakfast was an awkward affair, to say the least. I was bruised, exhausted…and miserable in every possible way.

Esme lay the back of her hand against my forehead.

"No fever," she murmured. "But you do seem out of sorts. Is your head aching very badly, Sweetheart? Are your stitches sore?"

"I'm a bit sore, but actually…I'd like to go home today - if that's all right."

Esme set down her utensils. "I really would like to keep an eye on you a bit longer."

"I'm perfectly fine, I assure you," I said. "I'm just…a bit homesick, honestly."

She frowned, and Carlisle set down his paper.

"Are you sure, Bella?" Carlisle asked. "I hope you know you're more than welcome in our home. I know your mom had some…reservations about allowing you to stay, but-"

"I just want to go home," I said.

"Bella, please stay. I'll finish all my chores as quickly as possible and spend the rest of the day with you," Alice pleaded.

"Yeah, come on, Little Sister," Masen coaxed. "I've got to work a full day today, but tonight, I'll bring Rose over, and we can all-"

"I'd really just like to go home."

For one split second, I thought I saw Esme's eyes flash in Edward's direction, but then she smiled – though it was one of those sad smiles that I've mentioned before.

"If that's what you really want, Sweetheart, Carlisle and I will take you home after breakfast."

"Thank you."

The entire time, Edward kept his eyes on his breakfast.

OOOOOOOOOO

For the next couple of weeks, I stayed close to home since I'd been told to take it easy, which provided the perfect excuse for my not venturing to the river anymore that summer.

Alice visited me daily, while Rose, Masen, and Jasper came over as often as they were able. The summer was coming to an end, and the days were even cooler than they'd been at the beginning of the season. We spent our time either in my room or playing with Sandy as we wandered around the Dwyer property.

Mother, of course, was thrilled that I was forced to stay close to home – though the fact that I still received unwanted company kept her from being fully ecstatic. Nevertheless, she was so involved in planning my Fourteenth Birthday Gala that not much else registered with her.

In late August, on the night before my birthday party, I had a dream from which I awoke shaking from head to toe and drenched in a cold sweat.

_The copper-haired boy and I were by the river. He grinned at me and then cocked his head sideways, just as I'd seen him do with Jessica, and then he slowly brought his lips to mine…warm and soft, while his very warm hand disappeared under my blouse…_

I quickly sat up. Breathing hard and bewildered, still trapped in that strange land between dream and reality, I lifted up my nightgown to make sure there were no wandering hands in there. Yet as I took in my non-existent chest, I couldn't help but curse Jessica Stanley and all her curves to the deepest pits of hell.

Then I threw myself back against the mattress.

OOOOOOOOOO

"What do you think it is about boobs that boys like?" I asked Alice later that day. We were spread out across my bed waiting for Mrs. Cope to bring me my dress so that she could help me get ready for the party.

Alice shrugged. "I guess it's how round and soft they are."

I bit my lip, staring down at my flat chest once more.

Alice chuckled at my scowl. "Don't worry, they'll grow. You're just a late bloomer. Look at Edward. He was short for years, and now, he's taller than Pop and Masen!"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh yeah, he's a real man now."

Alice smoothed down my hair. "Hey, I know he's been crabby these couple of months, but don't take it personally. He's been a crank with everybody."

"I don't care anyway," I said. "He's a big dope."

"Yeah, he is," Alice agreed. "It doesn't matter what those boys do over the summer. You and I will always be best friends."

"Always," I smiled.

OOOOOOOOOO

Peter Vanderneck had arrived a few days before my party. He was now seventeen years old and being groomed by his father to one day take over the vast array of Vanderneck affairs; therefore, he was attempting to improve his social skills by being much more cordial than he used to be. And since I was staying close to home, he and I spent more time together listening to the radio and playing with Sandy. I found that he wasn't as arrogant as I used to believe him.

As I emerged from my bedroom dressed in this year's most current fashions from Milan, Peter was the first person I saw.

He was in an impeccably tailored tuxedo, which fit his tall, lean frame regally. His blue eyes and blond hair contrasted attractively against the dark fabric, and he stopped in his tracks when he saw me in this year's pastel blue creation.

"Isabella, you look…like a young lady."

I chuckled at his continued attempts to polish his manners, and in return, I presented him with a playful curtsy.

"Why thank you, Young Gentleman."

He smiled wider than I'd ever seen him do, revealing a couple of dimples I'd never known he had. Leaning up against the wall close to me, he crossed his legs at his ankles and stuck his hands in his pockets, pasting a teasing smirk on his face.

"What is this now, like your twentieth birthday gala?"

"It sure feels that way," I sighed. "But no, it's only my fourteenth birthday."

He whistled low through his teeth. "Fourteen! Why it seems just yesterday that it was your eleventh birthday!"

"And we were dining on lobster and steak and chasing after Sandy. Yes, I know. I know. Some things never change."

"And some things change immensely. You're not such a little girl anymore."

"_Thank you!"_ I said emphatically. "I don't know why it's so hard for some people to see that!"

"I see it," he said quietly and then quickly cleared his throat. "Are you ready for this year's piano concerto?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," I shrugged.

"I know you don't enjoy them," he said. "But I'm sure you'll do fine. You always do very well. Everyone loves listening to you play."

"Thanks, Peter," I said genuinely, though I was pretty sure he was merely being polite.

That evening would be the first time I'd see Edward since I left the Cullen's house, and I wasn't sure how to handle that - though the fact that Peter remained close to me for much of the early evening did make it easier to prepare for Edward.

You see, I reasoned that Peter's attention to me was because this attempt at civility was new to him, and since we'd spent some time together over the past few days, I was the one with whom he felt most at ease. Therefore, I'd allow him to use me as a social shield, and in return I'd use him as a physical shield to hide from Edward - since Peter was so tall and I was so petite.

So as we waited with baited breath for Edward's imminent arrival - or perhaps I should say, as I waited - a few, older friends of my parents began dancing to the piece the band was playing. If I recall correctly, it was Dmitri Shostakovich's String Quartet Number One, a fairly popular classical piece at the time. After a few minutes, Alice and Jasper, and Peter and I joined in more as a way to stave off boredom than anything else because neither Alice nor I were very good dancers at that point, and we were doing an admittedly poor job. So we laughed as Jasper spun Alice around the cleared ballroom, and then Peter did the same to me, and I was getting dizzy and giggling, but I enjoyed the way my dress floated around me as I twirled. Mother looked at us and shook her head, but there was a grin on her face that I couldn't quite place at the time, and though we were making a bit of a spectacle of ourselves, she didn't try to put a stop to our antics.

It was in the middle of Mr. Shostakovich's piece that I abruptly felt Edward's presence.

I tried not to look, but it was as if my eyes had a mind of their own, and there he was: dressed in dark slacks, a white dress shirt, perfectly polished shoes, and his copper hair brushed back. Standing so tall and beautiful it made my chest constrict, he put every other male in their expensive tuxes to shame.

When our eyes met, I thought I saw something…strange in his, but I looked away quickly, and my eyes fell to Jessica at his side. She was wearing a pretty, peach dress, nowhere near as expensive as the dress that had been made for me, but it fit her tight around her generous bosom, showcasing the womanly figure no amount of tailoring could give me.

I continued the rest of the dance stiffly, staring intently at Peter's chest and no longer half as impressed by my billowing skirt.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked.

"Nothing." I shook my head.

He remained silent, and as soon as the piece ended, I walked away without a word or a glance in anyone's direction.

As soon as I was out of the room, I leaned up against a wall and threw back my head, placing a hand over my racing heart to try to slow it down.

I realized then that my plan to hide behind Peter was doomed to failure. No matter where I tried to hide, my heart would always feel Edward's presence, and my eyes would always obey that sensation by seeking him out. It had been that way since the beginning.

How was I supposed to get through this night?

How was I supposed to get through almost two more weeks in Forks?

And then I thought about the following summer. What if…dear God, what if he _proposed_ to her? Edward would be seventeen next summer, old enough to propose…and I…I wouldn't even be quite fifteen yet.

Fearing I may pass out from these thoughts, I went in search of Alice, who'd disappeared from the ballroom at some point. With Sandy at my side, I tried to avoid the servants and maids who were flitting all about and wandered into the kitchen.

"Isabella, what are you doing here, and with that mutt in tow?" Mrs. Cope scolded. "If your mama sees you both in here, especially you in that grand dress, she'll tan both your hides and have my job!"

"If Mother ever sends you away, Sandy and I will be going with you," I grinned, hugging her tightly. She chuckled, shooing Sandy away when she jumped up to lick us, but if the thick, juicy steak bones I always discovered in Sandy's bowls were anything to go by, Mrs. Cope loved Sandy almost as much as I did. "Has anyone seen Alice?"

"She was running around with the Whitlock boy last I saw her," Mrs. Cope said. "Now both of you shoo before-"

A loud crash echoed from one of the other rooms, sounding suspiciously like expensive crystal shattering into a thousand pieces. Someone screamed in horror.

"Goodness!" Mrs. Cope breathed. "Whatever it is, let's clean it up before Mrs. Dwyer sees it!"

She hurried out of the kitchen followed by a handful of other servants. Sandy and I turned around to leave, and as we did, I grabbed a shiny, red apple from the glass bowl on top of the counter. Just as I was about to bite into it, I happened to catch my reflection in the well-polished, glass door.

My hair had been styled into intricate braids and then done up by Mrs. Cope, and though I may not have been as obsessed with fashion as Mother, I could appreciate the beauty of my Italian silk dress and how it hugged my waist before widening gracefully to my knees. I wasn't ugly; the mirror confirmed that daily. Yes, I looked very much like a dark-haired version of Mother, but if only I could fill out a dress the way she did, the way most girls my age were at least beginning to. I was sick of the ironing board I always saw every time I looked at my chest.

I don't recall slipping the unbitten apple inside my dress, but there it suddenly was, and my eyes widened at how it completely transformed my reflection. Even the fact that I was skinny didn't matter. At that moment, my dress looked more like a woman's dress than a little girl's dress. _I_ looked more like a woman.

So I picked up another apple.

They fit nicely inside my dress, held in place by the fitted bodice. I turned this way and that in my makeshift mirror, grinning from ear to ear at the faux décolletage pointing back at me, and I thought…

Maybe if I looked older, if I wasn't always the petite one, the little girl, the one with no chest and no curves. Maybe then he'd-

"Isabella! All the guests have arrived and your Mother is ready for you to play your piece!" Mrs. Cope called out from one of the other rooms.

Perhaps if I'd had time to second-guess myself.

OOOOOOOOOO

The guests were all gathered in the main parlor for the concerto, and as I walked past them to the baby grand, I held my music book tightly to my chest, trying to control my growing apprehension at what I'd just done by focusing on the conversations going on around me.

"He's already taken control of Austria, and now he's threatening to take the Czech land back, yet France and England are doing nothing to stop him!"

"Well, what are they supposed to do? Go to war yet again and over something so insignificant? They're just small pieces of land, for God's sakes."

"Yes, and then it'll be more land, and before you know it-"

"The English are doing enough. No one wants another war."

"At this point, there may be no choice."

"Of course there is. Stay out of it. It's got nothing to do with the English or the French, and it's definitely got nothing to do with us. We've got enough of our own problems."

As I took my seat on the bench, all conversation ceased.

"Isabella, Darling," Mother said in her most refined voice, "you may begin now."

Extremely nauseous by this point, I slowly peeled away the music book, hoping that perhaps no one would notice. Perhaps Peter was wrong, and no one paid attention to me or my yearly Grade B performances.

When a few gasps went up in the audience, I glued my eyes to the open book and began playing Mozart's classic, and strangely enough, as the seconds wore on, my embarrassment began to morph into anger: anger at Mother for making me perform year after year, anger at Papa Phil for not stopping her, anger at Dad, for not fighting harder to keep me, and anger at Mrs. Cope, for leaving me alone in that kitchen.

And most of all, anger at Edward, for not feeling for me what I felt for him.

My playing grew louder. The quiet whispers grew, and pretty soon, I was attacking that piano, Mozart's dynamics be damned. I played _forte_ where I was supposed to play _piano_, _Sforzando_ where there was to be no _Sforzando_, constantly _Crescendo_ without ever softening even while out of my periphery, I could see Mother's ashen face quickly approaching me.

So I did the only thing I could think to do:

I began playing Duke Ellington.

Mother rushed me then.

"What in the world are you doing?" she hissed wildly in my ear, attempting to pull my hands off of the piano, but I fought to keep playing – which resulted in something I'm sure Mr. Ellington never intended. But by that point, I was a girl on a mission – exactly what that mission was to this day eludes me, but it was something grand, I'll tell you.

And so we struggled there until we were both distracted by the sound of something falling and bouncing on the floor, and we both looked down to see one apple rolling away…

and then another.

That was when I stopped playing.

People say 'the silence was deafening.' Well, I'd never really understood the phrase until that moment.

The silence literally pounded in my ears. Sandy strutted over and sunk her canines into one of the apples, growling playfully as she fought with it.

"Get that beast out of here," Mother hissed into the quiet of the room, and one of the servants hastily materialized to lead Sandy out.

Meanwhile, my eyes were glued to the floor, to where the other apple lay round and still.

I couldn't move.

I couldn't breathe.

That is, until I heard one, lone giggle...

followed by another.

Pretty soon, hushed whispers were going up all over the place. When my eyes finally lifted, almost every face I looked at was full of humor.

When I looked at Papa Phil, he definitely wasn't laughing. Next to him were Carlisle and Esme, neither of whom looked amused either. In fact, Esme looked about ready to run to me until Carlisle held her back, murmuring something in her ear. Next to her was Alice, who looked as if she were ready to cry. She did, in fact, start moving in my direction.

But then I got distracted…

by Edward.

He was leaning against a wall, a few feet away from his family with Jessica next to him.

His expression was somber, and I knew that like the rest of his family, he would never laugh, no matter how angry he may have been at me for interrupting his liaison a couple of weeks ago. He hadn't laughed when I was nine and had jumped into the river chasing Sandy, nor had he laughed when I was eleven and peed on myself from fright. He didn't laugh a couple of weeks ago when I'd been dumb and jumped into the river knowing how rough the current was that day.

He would _never_ laugh at me.

It was a basic fact as far as I was concerned, so when Edward dropped his head and closed his eyes, pressing his lips together tightly, I frowned in confusion. And just as surely as if that were her cue, Jessica started cackling, and then so did my stepsister, Lauren, next to her.

And then everyone left the giggles behind and began laughing.

I jumped off of the bench so quickly that it skidded over the wood floors, but Mother caught my arm just as I was at the threshold of the parlor.

"How could you do something so stupid?!" she hissed as I struggled to get away.

"Let me go! Let me go!"

"You've embarrassed me beyond words!"

Finally wrenching myself free from Mother's grasp, I ran for the stairs, all the while hearing Alice calling behind me.

"Bella!"

I heard…_him_ calling me.

But I didn't stop. I couldn't. I was mortified, nauseous, heartbroken, and…

and so very sick of Forks.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thoughts?**

**AOI Playlist Song # 13: **_**I'm Gonna Lock My Heart (and Throw Away the Key)**_** (1938) Billie Holiday:**

_**I'm gonna lock my heart and throw away the key**__**  
><strong>__**I'm wise to all those tricks you played on me**__**  
><strong>__**I'm gonna turn my back on love, gonna snub the moon above**__**  
><strong>__**Seal all my windows up with tin so the love bug can't get in**_

*****The next chapter is EPOV – sort of :) *****

**Twitter: PattyRosa817**

**Link to 'Stories by PattyRose' is on my profile page. :)**


	13. Chapter 12 - Newton's Third Law

**A/N: Thanks so much for your wonderful reviews. :)**

**Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes, who keeps me somewhat sane when necessary. :)**

**Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

**This chapter will shift into EPOV...sort of (Read on).**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12: Summer 1938 (conclusion) – Newton's Third Law<strong>

##########

"Oh, Nana," Isabella breathes, cupping a hand over her mouth. "That must've been just awful! How could he? Did he apologize afterwards?"

"Did he break things off with Jessica?" Olivia asks.

"Did you fling an apple at each of their heads?" Skye wonders.

The three of them make me laugh out loud with how horribly indignant they appear on my behalf. For now at least, Isabella seems to have forgotten her own present-day worries.

"Well, a few things happened afterwards, none that involved my throwing apples. I guess it's like that Physics Law: for every action, there's an equal reaction. In the grand scheme of things…"

My eyes once again see that day long ago.

"In the grand scheme of things, that day probably wouldn't measure on any scale, but in our lives…well, in our lives, that day had far-reaching consequences." I cock my head sideways. "Sometimes I wonder…if I hadn't put those apples down my dress…"

"Nana?" Isabella asks. She's stroking my jean-clad leg. It tingles with warmth through the material, as if she's been stroking for some time.

"Have I been gone for a while again? I'm sorry, Child."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm just fine," I assure her. "I've just been…thinking. Well, let me tell you about some things I found out later. Much later…."

##########

Apparently, when Edward saw me run out of that room and head for the staircase, he tried to follow, but Jessica grabbed his arm.

"Get off," he hissed, barely sparing her a backwards glance.

"It was just too funny!" she giggled in defense.

At this pronouncement, he did spare her one second. "You and I are done."

Without wasting another second, he shook off the hand holding him and resumed his chase. Alice, Jasper, Masen and Rose followed. When they reached the grand staircase, Mother was already there. She spun around and scowled upon seeing them.

"No one is going up there," she proclaimed, then looking directly at Edward, "especially not you."

"Is she okay?" Peter asked. He'd come up behind them as well.

"Peter, please make sure that no one goes upstairs. I've got to get back and explain to everyone that Isabella recently suffered a concussion." And with that, she rushed past them to return to her hostess duties.

Having no intention of honoring her wishes, Alice and Edward moved towards the steps, but Peter quickly blocked their way.

"I'm sorry, but Mrs. Dwyer said no one goes up there."

"Peter, please!" Alice pleaded. "I've got to see Bella!"

"Let us through, Peter," Edward said a lot more steadily than he felt.

Peter's eyes moved to Edward. "I don't think so, Edward, not when it's you and your girl's fault that she's so upset."

The accusation was like a fist slamming straight into Edward's gut, tightening around his insides. But he wouldn't let Peter see that.

"Peter, get out of my way."

Peter cocked his head sideways. "Do you think we're still kids, Edward? Do I still look like that thirteen-year-old weak boy to you? I said you're not going up."

At this, Edward's hands instinctively balled into fists, but before he could react, Masen curled a hand around his shoulder and pulled him back.

"Edward, let's go. We'll talk to Bella tomorrow."

Still, Edward didn't budge. His nostrils flared as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Peter.

He knew that Peter was the one Renee meant for Bella; of course he knew. Mrs. Dwyer had made it pretty clear at the Independence Day Barbecue that first summer Bella arrived in Forks. His mind had understood it even then; even after Peter had made that stupid comment that earned him a fist to the mouth.

But later that summer, while he and his brother, Masen, had been fishing, he'd sought further clarification:

"_See, the way it works is that the Vandernecks got the blue blood but not so much of the money. The Dwyer's have the money but not the blue blood. So they tie it all together nicely with Isabella and Peter," Masen explained._

"_But Isabella's not even ten yet!"_

"_Not now, you dope," Masen had rolled his eyes, shaking his head, "when they're older. When Isabella's like, seventeen or eighteen, they'll have one of those parties up in New York, all fancy-like in a fancy ballroom and announce their fancy engagement, and all the rich, fancy folk will attend and drink fancy bottles of wine and celebrate."_

"_But what if that's not what she wants?"_

"_Don't matter what she wants," Masen shrugged. "Rich folk marry rich folk. Or sometimes, like Isabella's mama, a poor woman finds herself a rich tycoon to marry. But a rich girl never ends up with a poor boy." Masen had held Edward's gaze, but Edward had quickly looked away, glaring at the sparkling river._

"_Why don't they just marry off Lauren to Peter?" he'd asked._

"_Cuz Isabella's the one who's gonna grow up to be the beauty, not Lauren," Masen had chuckled. "It's pretty obvious."_

_At that comment, Edward felt anger welling up inside, though he had no idea why._

"_Why are you asking so many questions about little Isabella? You sweet on her or something?"_

"_No!" Edward had snapped. "Just wonderin'. 'Sides, by the time she's seventeen, I'll be long gone, flying my fighter planes. I won't care who she marries cuz I ain't marrying no one."_

_For a few seconds, Masen had simply stared at his little brother._

"_What did he say to you back at the barbecue? Why'd you punch him?"_

"_Don't matter," Edward had responded, unwilling to repeat the disgusting remark fancy, rich boy, Peter Vanderneck had made. He wished he would've knocked out one of his fancy teeth - or two. "He won't be saying it again."_

_Masen held his gaze for one long moment before turning his eyes back to his line and whistling a happy tune._

And as the years went by, Edward's mind could see the truth, even the logic in what Masen had told him.

Yes, his mind could see it, but damn it, why the hell hadn't the rest of him ever been able to just accept it?

And right now, he was ready to slam a fist into Peter's mouth once again. Truth be told, he'd spent the past four years aching to slam a fist into his mouth again, and never more so than tonight, when he'd seen him out on the dance floor with Bella. In his mind, Edward had clearly pictured that fancy engagement that'd be coming in a few, short years.

"Edward, let's go. We'll come find Bella tomorrow when she's calmed down a bit."

"Listen to your brother, Young Man," Philip said, appearing behind them. "He's a wise individual."

Edward turned around, and now his pop was approaching them as well. Philip stepped back, and Carlisle rested a hand over Edward's other shoulder so that now he was effectively being held back by both his father and brother, and Edward knew he wouldn't be getting the chance to knock out Peter's fancy teeth tonight.

"Son, I think we should let Bella have some time to herself. Let's go."

A smug smirk lifted up the corners of Peter's mouth, and though Edward was sorely tempted to knock it off with his fist, he gritted his teeth and retreated because as much as Peter was no longer that thirteen-year-old weak boy, Edward wasn't that boy who solved everything with his fists anymore either.

"Mr. Dwyer, may I please go see Bella?" Alice implored.

"I think it might be better if Isabella is left alone for the time being. I doubt she'll want to see anyone at the moment."

"She'll want to see me," Alice assured him.

"I'd prefer to give her some time to herself. It can't be easy to see a room full of people who are supposed to be your _friends_ laugh at you."

Philip shifted his eyes towards Edward, and Edward, unable and unwilling to defend himself, dropped his head, shutting his eyes tightly against the wave of guilt threatening to engulf him.

He hadn't meant to react the way he did. It was the entire situation. The entire summer. The impossible, ridiculous situation.

But she'd never understand that.

"I'm sure it's not," Carlisle agreed, his voice suddenly laced with barely suppressed ire. "But Bella should've never been up there on display that way to begin with! My God, Philip, she's a fourteen-year-old child, not a trophy to be put on display for your friends' yearly amusement! You want something to display?" he hissed.

"Carlisle." Esme had joined them and now placed what was supposed to be a calming hand on Carlisle's arm.

"You want something to display? That's what your wife is for," he continued, "because she _is_ a grown woman, and _she_ seems to enjoy it!"

"Carlisle," Esme repeated, but Carlisle was done, and both men simply stood there, sizing one another up as if there was so much more they both wanted to release.

"You're a good father, Carlisle, and a good husband," Philip finally said. "I can…appreciate that, but Isabella is _my_ responsibility, not yours."

"Then damn it, act like it!" Carlisle growled. "Being a father is about more than enrolling them in fancy schools and opening your wallet to-"

"Carlisle!" Esme said.

"Good night, Cullen family," Philip said. "As always, it was a pleasure. Felix will be happy to escort you home if you need a ride." And with that, he turned around.

"We have our own car, thank you!" Carlisle retorted to Philip's retreating form, and taking Esme's hand, he led her and their three children off of Dwyer property.

OOOOOOOOOO

Alice quietly cried all the way home. By the time Edward's father parked the car in front of their house, Edward was ready to choke her. Not because he blamed her for crying, but because every tear that rolled down her cheek was like a spear into his chest; a reminder of what he'd just done to Bella.

The pain he'd just caused his sweet, little girl.

The…betrayal.

She'd been so good to them, _for_ them since that very first summer she'd appeared like a wet fairy in that water. Even now, thinking of that day, that moment when he'd seen her submerged in the river made his blood run cold. To think that he could've been too late. If he hadn't disobeyed his parents and gone to the river, if he hadn't heard her screams…

Then after he'd gotten her out, she'd looked up at him with those big, golden eyes and…

And that had been it for him. All he'd ever wanted to do since that moment was protect her, keep her from all hurt and harm.

Instead, all he'd done this summer was make her ache; he knew it. But she was so headstrong, and as much as he admired that about her, she'd never understand that what she wanted was impossible, that it would just bring her more pain in the long run. He'd wanted to spare her that, even at the cost of his own pain. Even if it meant having to watch her every damn day and…and know that he had to stay away…

And this summer…this summer he couldn't have crushed her more if he'd actually set out to do so.

OOOOOOOOOO

Edward sat heavily over the porch steps, cradling his head in his hands and trying to understand where exactly he'd gone wrong. It was nerves that brought about that reaction back in the parlor a few hours ago, nerves and exhaustion and…and that's what she'd never understand because if he explained that to her, he'd have to explain so much more.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting out there in the dark when the porch door opened behind him. With a heavy sigh, his father took a seat at his side.

"Edward, you're my son, and despite some rough spots when you were younger, you've always made me proud, but this evening…"

Edward picked up his head wearily, not quite meeting his father's gaze.

"Last summer, she told me she wanted me to be her first kiss."

The declaration was followed by a long moment of silence.

"She's so young, Pop."

"She is young; yes, she is," Carlisle agreed.

"I've got plans, Pop. You know I've always had these plans, and she doesn't understand what that means! How that would…and then there's her family…and everything that entails."

"Sounds like you've been giving it some thought."

"And there's the guys in school."

"What about the boys in school?"

Edward scowled. "They started teasing me cuz I'd never had a girl, never _kissed_ a girl. They saw how Jessica and the other girls followed me around, and when I ignored them all, well…they started whispering in the locker room, saying maybe I didn't like girls at all. Saying maybe they should keep a distance from me 'case I try to kiss _them_," he recalled, nostrils flaring. "So I started courting Jessica because…well, she was okay, I suppose, and I had to make Bella understand…" Edward gripped the hair on top of his head, letting out a growl of frustration. "I don't know, Pop. I don't know what I'm saying. I don't even know what I'm doing."

"Edward," Carlisle breathed, staring down at his steepled hands. "Edward, young 'uns can be stupid, especially when they're in a group - starts a mob mentality. But Son, the only way to stop them is to ignore them."

"The way everyone's ignoring Hitler? You think that's going to stop him?"

"We're not talking about world politics here, Edward, are we?"

"No, Sir."

"Edward, you're closer to being a man than you are to being a child, so I'm going to speak plainly to you. Now, I didn't say anything when you began courting the Stanley girl after never having shown any previous interest in her. You're a young man now, and I assume you see things…you see certain young women in a different light than was the case just last year or the year before. Who you court is something you decide, not me. Nevertheless, there are a couple of points I must make here. The first: you _cannot _court a young lady simply because you believe her to be "okay" or to make a point. You're cheating both yourself and the young woman involved of the beauty of a real courtship. No young man nor woman wants to feel that they're less than the first and only choice. It was a very cowardly thing, Son."

Edward dropped his head. "I know, Pop. It was wrong and cowardly; I know. But it's over now."

"I'm glad you recognize your error, and while it's something I'd like to discuss further, for now, let's get to my second point." Carlisle sighed. "I don't like the idea of Bella kissing anyone just yet, not even my own son. Therefore, I must say that I'm glad you apparently chose not to kiss her."

Edward nodded, unsure if he felt relieved or disappointed by this point.

"However, Young Man, from what you've just told me, I do believe that you've chosen to ignore the real issue all summer, and the real issue isn't what those ignorant boys were saying. The real issue is what you may or may not be feeling."

Carlisle waited, but Edward was silent. Not because he didn't want to talk to his pop, but because he was so bewildered and had no idea how to put it all into words.

"You've been ignoring Bella all summer."

Edward's eyes quickly shot to his pop's eyes.

"Yes, your mother and I did notice," Carlisle confirmed. "As I said, you're not a boy anymore, and as much as your behavior towards her may have disturbed your mother and me, we wanted you to learn to resolve your own issues. But Edward, regardless of what she may have asked of you last summer and regardless of how you feel about it, I thought you regarded her as at least your friend."

"Of course I do!" Edward cried indignantly.

"Are you sure? Because you haven't been acting like it. And tonight…"

"Aw, Pop," Edward moaned, burying his head in his hands once again. "Tonight, that wasn't…I never meant to hurt her that way." He picked up his head. "I have to speak with her, to try to explain and apologize."

He stood then and quickly took the steps down.

"Philip won't let you in, Son, much less Bella's mother."

Edward paused, shutting his eyes tightly against the growing guilt and impatience.

"Best to wait 'til morning and let cooler heads prevail. Right now, they won't let you in."

His father was right; he knew it. No matter how much he needed to see Bella tonight, neither one of her parents would allow it. With no other choice and with footsteps weighted down by remorse and self-reproach, Edward turned around and walked into his house.

##########

"Good for him!" Olivia snaps. "I'm glad he felt like crap!"

"Olivia, you're forgetting yourself again," Isabella warns.

"Sorry," Olivia grumbles, though it's obvious she's not.

"Now, now." I chuckle at the indignation on my behalf. "Hurting the person who hurt you isn't always as satisfying as it may sound, though I certainly understand the impulse to allow hurt and humiliation to transform into anger. It's that impulse that guided so much of what happened worldwide during those years."

With a deep sigh, I gaze up at the broad, green bristles growing on the magnificent tree next to us, wondering how long they've been there…how much they've seen…

"Yet…if you stop and think…if you give yourself time…yet sometimes you're not given time to stop and think, and then when the years pass, and you look back at the situation…you wonder…if you'd done things differently…"

Blinking a few times, I turn away from the tree and look at my family.

They're all gaping at me, and again I wonder how long I've been off on my tangent.

"Nana," Skye says softly, "what did _you_ do?"

"Well…we'll get to me soon enough. Let's first finish with the copper-haired young man and what he was going through just then."

##########

Edward lay awake most of the night, replaying the scene at Bella's house over and over again, cringing every time he pictured the look on Bella's face when those apples fell out of her dress, rubbing his chest to try to quell the ache every time he envisioned the hurt in her golden eyes.

Jesus, what was she thinking? And why did she start playing Duke Ellington? Why would she-

But that wasn't even the matter at hand.

He'd messed up all summer. Jessica…she'd been…such a mistake. She'd always wanted him; he knew that. And at the time, it had seemed like the simplest solution. She was simple to be with; there were no expectations, no complications…and in the process, he'd be able to make Bella understand how impossible she and he were…

When deep, burgundy bands of light streaked through the black and grey sky, Edward finally fell into a fitful sleep where he dreamed of all his summers with Bella:

He dreamed of the first time he saw her when she was a tiny, little nine-year-old who didn't even know that dogs could swim, of the time she'd flung herself into his arms and called him her "hero" while soundly kissing his cheek in gratitude for his teaching Sandy to sit. In his dream, he could still feel the warmth that radiated off of her, the strange thrill that had run through him at the feel of her tiny, little self in his arms.

He dreamed of the day he'd found her crying in the woods and he'd imagined her to be the prettiest yet saddest woodland princess who'd ever existed.

He dreamed of the huge tears that speared his chest the summer he scared her so badly she'd peed herself while camping.

He dreamed of how sweet and honest and open she looked when last summer, she told him she wanted him to be her first kiss. He dreamed of how wildly his heart had beaten at her declaration, of how hard it'd been not to cradle her pretty little face right then and there.

He dreamed of how soft her skin had felt that day a few weeks ago when she'd fallen asleep under the evergreen with her long, dark hair splayed out over the grass...with her pink lips puckered in slumber…

Then he dreamed of the look of horror on her face when she first saw him with Jessica. He dreamed of the absolute terror he'd felt when she'd jumped into the river a couple of weeks ago. He dreamed of his lips on hers...of breathing into her mouth...

And finally…he dreamed of Bella's pretty face twisted in pain and humiliation a few hours ago when his mouth turned up into that smirk he couldn't even fathom himself.

His heavy conscience conjured up a muffled voice full of tears…Sandy barking…car doors opening and closing…

When his eyes fluttered open, the angle in which the muted sun poured in through the window indicated that his torturous, early morning thoughts had caused him to oversleep. He'd have to be at the Stanley's store soon to begin his day – that is, if he still had a job there.

But that was the least of his worries.

First, he had to go to Bella and apologize, try to offer her some sort of explanation for how stupid he'd acted all summer.

But what could he say without saying too much?

He quickly jumped out of bed and cleaned up. He'd have to figure it out on the way over. Bypassing the kitchen because he couldn't face his mother or Alice quite yet, he took the long way around to his father's empty office. Business had been slow for...a while. Carlisle sat at his desk completing some sort of paperwork when Edward popped his head in.

"Pop, can Alice do my chores this morning? I know she's got her own, and I'll make it up to her tonight, but I got up late, and I really want to go see Bella and apologize before I head to the mercantile."

Carlisle simply stared at him, looking exhausted himself. Scrubbing a hand down his face, Edward's father motioned to the chair across from his desk.

"Edward, let's have a talk."

"Can this wait?"

"No, I'm afraid it can't."

Edward struggled against a disrespectful display of impatience. "Pop, I know I've handled things badly. Please just let me ask Alice to do my chores so I can go speak with Bella, and I'll take care of everything else afterwards. You can punish me all you want. I'll clean cages for the rest of the summer. I'll do my chores and Alice and Masen's as well if you deem it so."

"Edward…" he sighed. "Son, I'm not punishing you. Just take a seat."

There was an edge to Carlisle's voice, yet it wasn't angry; more like disappointed, even…apologetic.

"Yes, Sir." Reluctantly, Edward took a seat, but his leg bounced up and down in time with his anxiousness.

Carlisle filled his lungs and then let out the air slowly. "Edward, Bella left this morning."

"What do you mean? She was here this morning?"

Yet even as he said it, he realized that he'd known she'd been there. He'd heard her; he'd…felt her.

"What I mean is Bella is on her way to Seattle to board the train back to her father in Chicago."

Edward stared at his father, deep, horizontal lines of confusion marring his forehead. "That can't be right. She still has over a week to go before she's due to leave."

Carlisle stood and walked around the desk to Edward. "She's gone, Son."

The tears he'd heard…the hushed voices…the barking...

"Philip brought her quite early so that she could say her goodbyes. She asked your sister to take care of Sandy."

Edward stood so quickly that his chair scraped noisily against the floor.

"Why didn't anyone come get me?" he yelled. "Why didn't anyone wake me?"

"Edward…" With another deep sigh, his father rested a hand on his shoulder. "She didn't want us to wake you."

"What?"

"She was in a rush and upset and…adamant."

Carlisle patted his son's shoulder in a gesture meant to provide comfort, but Edward pulled away, staring at his father in disbelief.

"Perhaps Phil was right," his father said. "Perhaps it's best to give Bella time. I would venture to say it's been a difficult summer for her."

"Did she want to leave or is she being sent away?"

"From what Philip informed me…it was a mutual decision reached by Bella and her mother."

Edward dropped his head, shaking it back and forth. "Jesus Christ."

"She'll be back next summer, Son."

"Next summer?" Edward snorted, not caring at all about how his voice broke.

"She _is_ young, Edward. The child is barely fourteen. She deserves time. She deserves honesty wherever she can get it. Perhaps… - Carlisle held his son's gaze meaningfully – "perhaps this will give you both a chance to think about what sort of friendship you want with one another going into the future. A true relationship, of any kind, requires honesty. You have ten months now to figure what it is you want to say to her when you next see her, ten months to be honest with yourself so that by next summer, you can be honest with her, whatever that entails."

Edward swallowed thickly, his throat so tight it was painful. He fisted and unfisted his hands, wanting to punch something, anything. He wanted to yell and howl at the top of his lungs.

Ten months.

Bella had left feeling hurt and humiliated - hurt and humiliation that _he'd_ caused with his every action this summer.

And now, he'd have to wait almost an entire year to speak to her.

To tell her the truth.

##########

Olivia stands and paces in front of me, shaking out her hands, fisting and unfisting them as if trying to release some sort of pent up energy.

The action is achingly familiar.

"Oh hell no," she finally says. "Nana, I know you're not trying to tell us that you waited an entire _year_ to clear up that mess!"

"Not-"

"I think I would've pulled out my hair!" She reaches up for her long, blond hair and fists it tightly. "Nowadays, he could've just texted you or face-timed you! He could've jumped in his car and followed you! Google-mapped a shorter route to the train station and beat you there! Come on, Nana, don't keep us in suspense! What happened next?"

"Well," I begin, but Isabella interrupts.

"Hold on, Nana," she frowns. "How is it that you know exactly what the copper-haired young man was thinking and feeling while you weren't around? Did he tell you afterwards?"

I shake my head. "Not exactly."

"Then…"

"I read it years later…in his journal."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thoughts?**

**AOI Playlist Song # 14: Don't Be That Way (1938) by Bing Crosby:**

_**Sweetheart, tomorrow is another day,**__**  
><strong>__**Don't break my heart,**__**  
><strong>__**Oh honey, please don't be that way.**_

*****A quick message on Angst and HEAs:*****

**If neither one of these topics interests you, you can just skip this. Otherwise:**

**Angst – This is an angsty story. Fanfiction only allows a writer to pick 2 genres, and I picked Romance and Hurt/Comfort because I believe the latter encompasses angst as well. If I could've picked 3 genres, angst would've definitely been one of them.**

**HEAs – Will the story have an HEA? Will it? Will it? ;) If you want my view on HEAs, please take a look at my profile. :)**

**Twitter: PattyRosa817**

**Link to 'Stories by PattyRose' is on my profile page.**

**Have a great weekend!**


	14. Chapter 13 - Making Plans

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts. I'm having such a great time reading all your comments and ideas. **

**Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes**

**Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is mine.**

**This will once again shift into Edward's POV - sort of. :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13: Summer 1939 – Making Plans<strong>

##########

There's a light touch - a gentle grip on my shoulder accompanied by a quiet voice.

"Mama?"

The voice sounds far away; it competes with other voices…other images...

"Nana?"

I blink a few times because the faces before me don't match the place where my mind has taken me. The voices murmur quietly, but trapped between here and there, I have a hard time making out the words.

"Mama? Mama, come back. Come back, Mama."

This voice breaks me out of my thoughts, and suddenly, I'm no longer in the back of Papa Phil's car, being whisked away from Forks towards the Seattle train station.

"Alice?"

"No, Mama," the girl smiles gently and takes my hand. "It's me: Leah. Your daughter."

I blink again. "Leah?"

"Yes. Where were you, Mama?"

"I was…in 1938."

Leah sighs.

"Nana was telling us the most wonderful stories about when she was a girl," Skye (Olivia) whispers.

"Yeah," Olivia (Skye) agrees. "About a bunch of friends she made in the summers – though a couple of them were real bitches-"

"Olivia," Isabella reprimands.

"Sorry," Olivia says, "I meant _witches_. And then Nana fell in love, but _he_ acted like a real ass…_anine_ young man one summer," she corrects herself with a smirk. "And then he regretted how he treated her, but she left, and it was the olden times, so he couldn't get to her, and now we're waiting to hear what happened the following summer."

Leah shakes her head. "I'm glad to see you're enjoying your time with Nana Bella, but she really needs to rest." When she takes both my hands and guides me up to my feet, the girls groan with disapproval.

Isabella gets off of the tire swing and comes to help her mother. "Your grandmother is right, Girls. Nana needs to have a rest. It's going to be a busy day for her and-"

"I don't need a rest," I disagree, pulling my hands out of Leah's grip.

Leah raises a brow. "Mama, I asked you earlier to take a nap. Instead, I find you out here. Now you've been up since very early this morning and must be exhausted."

"I'm not tired at all." I walk to the now vacated swing and take a seat, slowly swaying it backwards and forwards.

"Mama, now you be careful there! You haven't slept, and you can lose your balance!"

"Nonsense! My balance is just fine." I push myself forward in the swing just a little bit harder, reveling in the feel of the breeze against my cheeks when I sway back. It's been…a while since I've felt it. It makes me smile.

"Mama!" Leah watches me, biting her lip. "Mama, you need to rest, and I've got to finish getting everything ready. Everyone will be here soon."

"People are coming? Why?"

"Mama, it's your birthday."

I hold her gaze. "Oh yes, it is. I was telling the girls my story."

"Mama-"

"Is your father up yet?"

"No, Mama." She sighs. "Not yet."

"Mom," Isabella reaches out and rests a hand on her mother's arm, "I really think it'd be good to let Nana finish her story. She's telling it perfectly, Mom; from beginning to end." She holds her mother's gaze, and I get the feeling they're communicating something silently.

Isabella finally turns and smiles at me, offering me a wink. Walking behind the swing, she begins pushing very carefully. "I've got it, Nana. Now if you're sure not tired, why don't you continue?"

"I'm perfectly sure," I grin, and then with a wave of my hand, I add, "Go on, Leah, take a seat with your granddaughters and let me finish."

So when Olivia and Skye quickly resume their seats over the grass, Leah hesitantly joins them.

"Now can someone remind me where we were?"

"The summer of 1938 ended badly. I assume we'll start with the summer of 1939, with the copper-haired young man figuring out once and for all what the hell he wants from life," Skye volunteers helpfully.

"Ah yes, 1939."

I close my eyes, allowing the memories to once more flood my mind…

But…

But the images that now fill it are full of feverish mobs hypnotized by the rhetoric of an insane man, images of tanks moving into unwarned and unprepared territories, images of innocent, unsuspecting men, women and children being guided into empty rail cars - like cattle to the slaughterhouse.

My eyes pop open.

"1939..."

##########

By early 1939, the German dictator and his party had already annexed Austria and Czechoslovakia, and with his appetite for power only growing, he had now set his sights on Poland. Britain and France, finally opening their eyes to the threat this man represented, promised to come to Poland's aid should the German dictator not back down in the face of the ultimatum he'd been given.

At the time, very few suspected that it was the twilight of peace not just for Europe, but for an entire planet…for an entire generation. Soon, all our personal conflicts would take a back seat to the greatest conflict the world had ever known...

OOOOOOOOOO

Yet in the small town of Forks, Washington, the only thing on the horizon was the coming end of another school year. Edward was taking care of his afternoon chores, which would've been finished already except he kept stopping to write in his journal and look out at the field, his gaze longingly following the tree line beyond which the river flowed, the river where he, his brother, sister and their friends spent most of their summers since he was a young kid.

Now almost seventeen, things had changed over the past couple of summers. He'd worked at the Stanley Mercantile last summer, and despite his sudden and not-quite-so-friendly break-up with Jessica, Mrs. Stanley had surprisingly kept him on because he was strong and very good with figuring. But with Jessica's constant sideways comments and "accidentally" bumping into him, Edward decided it would be best to look for something else. Being strong boys, he and Jasper had been lucky enough to find themselves summer jobs working at the local saw mill. They'd all be starting in a couple of weeks, when school would be over, and though it would greatly cut down on any recreation time, none of them were children anymore. Edward and Jasper needed to bring in money to help their families, and Masen…

Masen was graduating this year and had proposed to his childhood sweetheart, Rosalie. He'd be working at the mill full time for the next year, and then he'd take what money he'd saved, what money Carlisle could give him, and the money Edward was saving and marry Rosalie next summer before going to the University of Washington come the following fall. In the meantime, Rosalie, who despite her wishes would not be able to attend college, would live with Masen's parents until Masen finished school and built them a house on Cullen property.

No, it wasn't the best of plans, but in 1939, it was the best they could conjure.

As for Edward, almost every penny he'd earn over the summer as well as what he hoped to earn working after school next school year, his senior year, would be saved for Masen. After all, Masen was the one who'd be getting a wife and a higher education. Edward would be going to the air corps next summer and wouldn't need any of that money.

War was coming. He heard the news on the radio. He saw the news reels at the movie house. War was coming to Europe, and if it eventually came here, Edward wanted to be at the frontlines of his country's defense.

Defending and protecting his country had been his plan since he'd been a young boy, and there was no reason to change it.

Except…

No. No, there was no reason to change it.

Yet as he absently raked hay, a sweet laughter filled his memory.

And as had happened so many times over the past year, Edward stopped and stared off into the horizon, towards the evergreen tree where he and the prettiest girl he'd ever known had stood one night a few summers ago when they'd both still been children, and he'd known that no matter what, he'd always protect that pretty girl with the golden eyes and the long, dark hair. Except it had been so easy back then to protect her because they were just kids, and she hadn't yet asked him for something he couldn't give. For years, he'd sworn he was the only one who felt that all-consuming pull; he hadn't known that she felt it too and that one day he'd have to protect her from himself.

And now…

Now all he'd done this year was think of her: her pretty face, her soft, silky hair, the feel of his fingers caressing her cheek last summer when he'd found her asleep under the evergreen. He'd somehow worked up the nerve to ghost his fingers around her smooth, perfect face, and when she'd woken, he'd quickly dropped his hand.

More than one night, as he closed his eyes and let his mind wander, the scene under the evergreen would change, and she'd wake, but this time he wouldn't drop his hand. Instead, he'd cup her cheek, and Bella would sit up, gazing at him through those hypnotizing golden eyes of hers before moving in closer and putting her soft lips on his.

Those dreams left him breathless and gasping unlike anything ever had. Even the reality of truly kissing Jessica paled to those dreams. Just thinking about those dreams…

"Edward!"

Edward blinked, snapping himself out of his daydreams.

"Edward!" his mama repeated from the porch of the house. "Time to come in for supper!"

"I'll be right there, Mama!" he hollered back, yet his mind wandered once more...

She'd always been so young, yes, but there was a maturity to her, and God help him, he wouldn't push too far. Maybe she'd let him hold her hand the way he did that night they'd all camped out under the stars…a couple of summers before it all went to hell. He wouldn't ask her for more than that or for anything close to what he'd almost done with Jessica that night on the porch.

And then he cringed when he remembered being caught by Bella.

But…it would all be different this summer.

Older now, and with almost a year to think of the right words, he could explain things better. In less than a month, Bella would be back in Forks, and then he could truly apologize for everything that had happened the summer before, he could explain to her why he'd done the things he'd done, and then maybe…just maybe…

But then he'd remember that this coming school year would be his senior year, and the following year he'd be eighteen and off to the air corps…it had been his plan, his dream since he'd been a young kid, since before Bella had come into his life.

With a deep sigh, Edward resumed his raking.

OOOOOOOOOO

The next day as he walked home from school, the same thoughts plagued him, just as they had the entire year.

Edward knew what giving in would mean when it came to Bella. If he ever…kissed her, it would change everything, all his plans - plans he'd had since he was old enough to know what honor and patriotism and defending what was yours meant.

If he kissed her…he'd want to stay - to protect her and only her.

Europe was headed for war; anyone could see that now. Even those idiots who had stuck their heads in the sand could see what the British and their allies gearing up for promised invasions by the Germans and their allies would lead to. There was no stopping it. And while so many Americans were still trying to hide from what it all meant, the writing was on the damn wall as far as Edward was concerned: war would eventually come here too. It was inevitable.

Edward just hoped it wouldn't begin until he was of age next year.

But then…

What about Bella?

He groaned out loud, stomping his long legs harder against the muddy earth and raking a frustrated hand through his hair. With the weather warming up, the days were now passing quickly; she'd be here soon, and he needed to find an answer…

"Please, Mama and Pop!"

Edward was pulled out of his confusing thoughts by the sound of his sister, apparently moaning and pestering his parents for something. Just a few feet from his house, he looked up and saw Masen and Rose sitting on the porch steps.

"Please!" he heard Alice plead again. "I'll do anything!"

"What's going on?" Edward asked his brother, and then watched as Masen and Rose shared a look.

"Mama and Pop received a letter from Bella today."

Edward's eyes grew wide, though mail from Bella was nothing out of the ordinary. She wrote to Alice, Rose and Esme all the time. Last summer, after she'd left so abruptly, he'd written a letter to her in his journal, but then after rereading it, he'd decided not to mail it. He'd been such a coward all summer, and apologizing in a letter instead of face to face would only be another act of cowardice.

So he'd waited almost ten, long months now.

"What'd she say? How's she doing?"

"She's doing just fine," Masen assured him. "It's just…" his brother drew in a deep breath, "Bella says she's not coming to Forks this summer."

At first, Edward was sure he'd misunderstood.

Bella had been coming to Forks for the summer every single year for the past six years now. It was just how it was, unquestionable at this point. The summer ushered in Bella: a beautiful, delicate warm-weather fairy, a woodland nymph too precious to exist in any other climate. But as Masen continued explaining, it was with a nauseous roll of his stomach that Edward realized he'd understood perfectly.

"She says her mother and both her fathers have agreed to allow her to spend the summer in Chicago."

Edward's chest heaved, his lungs filling with angry breaths.

"You mean Renee Dwyer is still embarrassed about what happened last year and would rather forego seeing her daughter this summer than deal with that."

Masen shrugged. "Either way, she's not coming."

Edward's nostrils flared. He swallowed thickly, trying to clamp down on the ache beginning to radiate in his chest.

"That's not all," Masen continued. "Her pop has written to Mama and Pop to see if they'll let Alice go to Chicago for the summer instead."

"What?"

"Yep. They're on the phone with Bella's pop right now, and Alice is putting on quite a show, as you can hear," he chuckled.

Bewildered, Edward stood there frozen for a few minutes, listening to Alice's continued begging and pleading. He couldn't even remember walking into the house until he was standing in the kitchen, watching his father with the black mouthpiece to his mouth and the earpiece between him and his wife.

Alice sat impatiently at the table, vibrating in her chair. "Please, Mama and Pop!" she repeated while Esme quietly shushed her.

"Well, my wife and I thank you for the offer," Edward's pop said into the mouthpiece, "but we would pay for Alice's fare as you're being kind enough to host her."

Edward stood transfixed, wondering what was being said on the other line.

"Yes, yes," Carlisle said, with a note of apprehension in his voice. "Philip has offered her the use of a private railcar, but I don't know if I feel comfortable with that."

"Carlisle, she'll be a sixteen-year-old girl traveling by herself," Esme said quietly. "I would feel much more easy."

Carlisle shut his eyes for a second, blowing out through his nose. "All right, that's something my wife and I will discuss, but I want to thank you for your hospitality. Bella is a wonderful child, and my wife and I see the influence you've had in that, Mr. Swan. If we didn't feel confident that you would keep an eye on both girls, we wouldn't even consider it."

Again, Bella's father spoke, and Edward could only use conjecture to figure out the other side of the conversation.

"Of course. We'll definitely miss seeing her, but as parents, we understand your joy in having her with you for an entire summer."

And then after one more long silence, Edward's father said, "Please give her our love when you do see her. She's very special to my wife and me, as well as to our children. Yes, we'll definitely speak again in a few days. Thanks so much, Mr. Swan. Charlie then, and please call me Carlisle. All right, thank you again."

After he hung up, Edward simply stared at the scene before him with a sort of numb incredulity. Esme and Carlisle looked at Alice and gave her a slight nod, which caused Alice to scream and jump up from her chair, wrapping her arms around both her parents.

"Now, now, Alice," Esme said. "You'll have to behave yourself, and I _will_ be speaking to Mr. Swan about chores and such."

"Anything you say, Mama!" Alice said excitedly.

"She'll agree to just about anything right now!" Masen snorted behind Edward.

"I'll miss you two girls this summer," Rose added with a touch of sadness in her tone.

And then they all started talking and making plans while Edward just stood and watched, unable to understand how none of them could see what was happening.

"Sending her is a mistake."

Everyone stopped. Carlisle disentangled himself from his wife and daughter's embrace.

"Why do you say that, Son?"

Edward looked at all of them looking at him, and he was sure that they could see right through him, see things he didn't even completely understand himself.

"She's not old enough to go away."

"What do you mean I'm not old enough to go away?" Alice said quickly. "I'm sixteen years old, and before I marry and settle down, I'd like to see some of the world out there! God's sake, there are girls already married at my age!"

Her indignation simply angered him.

"You looking for a husband?" he asked his younger sister. Then he looked at their father. "You see? She's looking for a husband. You really want her out of your sight right now?"

"I'm not looking for a husband!" Alice yelled, stomping a foot. "If I was, I've got Jasper right here! I just want to see my best friend!"

Edward glared at her, waving a hand wildly. "If I was Pop, I wouldn't send you! Young girl off alone like that!"

"Edward!" Alice stomped again.

"Edward, your father and I are the parents here," Esme said. "Now we thank you for your brotherly advice, but we've spoken to Charles Swan, and we're confident that he'll look after the girls just fine. From all accounts, he's a man of upstanding character, and what's more, we trust that we've raised your sister to behave herself like a proper, young lady, both on the way over and while there."

"I will!" Alice insisted, shooting daggers at Edward. "Edward is just crusty because he wanted to be the first one to leave Forks and get out and see the world!"

She was completely wrong, but the fact that she'd try to embarrass him like that made his blood boil.

In truth, anything Alice would've said at that moment would've made his blood boil.

"It doesn't matter where you go, Alice, because when I get out of here, it'll be permanently, but you'll just have a taste of freedom before you end up married and knocked up and-"

"Edward, enough!" Carlisle commanded.

Edward knew he'd gone too far. He'd known it from the moment he'd opened his mouth.

Bella wasn't coming back this summer.

She wasn't coming back.

He'd spent all year waiting for her return…and she wasn't coming back.

OOOOOOOOOO

For a long time, he sat on the porch steps while Sandy licked his cheeks and he watched the muted sun change positions, the heavy clouds growing graver and darker.

"Well, Girl, looks like we're both out of luck this summer," he muttered bitterly.

Sandy whimpered and kept right on licking.

He tried to write in his journal, but even that failed to quell the turmoil in his mind. Instead, he dropped his head, nostrils flaring with the effort not to howl at the top of his lungs. Sandy must've sensed his need though, because she began howling for him.

After a while, he heard the storm door open and quiet footsteps behind him before his mother took a seat at his side, petting Sandy to calm her.

"You'll have to apologize to your sister."

"I know."

"It's a great opportunity for her, Edward. Masen has no desire to ever leave this town except for college, and that's just fine. And you…you've got your dreams of flying…but Edward, Alice may never get another chance to see another part of the country. From all accounts, even from Phillip Dwyer, Charles Swan is an upstanding man, and when your father and I spoke to him, he promised he wouldn't allow the girls to remain idle all summer. He assures us that they'll be helping around the house, helping neighbors, volunteering…"

Edward nodded emptily.

"Sweetheart…" Esme sighed, "I know you're disappointed."

For a long while, Edward didn't say anything because he wasn't sure he'd be able to speak without his voice betraying him.

"She was supposed to come back this summer," he said, barely above a whisper, "to give me a chance to explain, to…apologize. Instead…" – anger borne of bitter disappointment consumed him – "Instead, she's acting like a little girl," he hissed, "acting like a baby because a few, stupid people…she's just a little girl, always worried about getting embarrassed."

Esme was quiet for a few minutes, allowing her son to regain some sense of composure.

"Edward…" She stroked his head and spoke to him the way she used to when he was a young boy. "I'm sure it's not easy being a young man, but seeing as I've never been one, I can't comment on that; I can only tell you about young girls. It's not easy, especially at fourteen, fifteen, sixteen…you're changing, growing, stuck between being a child and a woman. And being shamed in front of family and friends…"

Edward swallowed thickly.

"It _is_ a big deal, Edward, especially at that age, so don't discount her feelings so callously."

He whipped his head up and met his mother's green eyes, exactly like his and Masen's.

"I'm sorry," he said, hearing the shame in his voice. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

She smiled tenderly, still running her fingers through his hair. "Well, it's not me you want to be apologizing to, is it, Son?"

When he shook his head, she nodded knowingly.

"And while I may agree that perhaps the best thing would've been to have Bella come this summer and face everyone with her beautiful head held high…well, I've got a feeling that her reluctance to return wasn't met with much resistance."

Edward dropped his head again, cradling it between his hands to keep it from exploding.

"Apologizing to her is almost all I've thought about all year," he confessed, "and now…now I'm going off to the air corps next year…and I don't know if she'll return next summer, and I may have to leave with her thinking me some horrible louse. I mean, I've _always_ protected her! Defended her! So I made a couple of stupid mistakes. Shouldn't every other time I've stood up for her negate that?" He brought his eyes back to his mother. "Shouldn't I have a right to make amends?"

But instead of agreeing, Edward's mother frowned, her eyes tightening. She stopped stroking Edward's hair.

"First of all, Edward, you seem to be thinking yourself awfully entitled to many rights here."

Edward tried to protest, but this time, his mother wouldn't give him a word in edgewise.

"Your protection and defense of Bella when she's needed it is nothing more than what any gentleman should do, what I hope your father and I have brought you up to do, so don't pat yourself on the back too much for it or think that it gives you any other privileges."

Shame washed over him yet again. "I'm sorry, Mama, but that's not what I meant."

"I believe it is," she retorted with a raised brow. "You have no rights over Bella, Edward, regardless of what you've ever done for her or how long you've known her. She may be a young girl, but always remember that she is still your equal in every way, as is your sister, and as am I." Her hand went to her hip, and that's when Edward knew he'd really gotten his mother riled up. "We may be women, and at times we may appreciate the help of a gentleman in protecting us from physical harm, but that doesn't make us weaker of mind by any means, and that protection does not afford you any sort of innate rights. Make sure you always remember that, Young Man."

Edward's Adam's apple bobbed up and down. "Yes, Ma'am."

And just like that, Esme Cullen's features once more softened.

"You and Bella have known each other for a few years now, and you have always been a gentleman with her, Edward, and yes, you have protected her. But…"

She trailed off, holding Edward's gaze, and as wary as Edward felt in that moment, he couldn't look away.

"But…is that all there is there, Edward, a need to protect her?"

And that right there was _the_ question, the one that would completely alter his life plans if answered aloud.

So he didn't.

But Esme simply smiled, cupping his cheek in her warm hand as if she didn't need the question answered.

"Edward, you're a young man now, ready to go off into the service next year, and I know I can't stop you. All I can do is hope that our President is able to keep us out of this growing conflict in Europe. Beyond that, I'll do as countless numbers of mothers have done before me: pray that you're returned to us safe and sound. But you're my son, and I've watched you grow and put this dream of yours before all others."

"Mama, if I let her in…if I let it happen," he tried to explain, "she'd change _everything_, and…I don't know if I'd know how to deal with that."

Edward's mother chuckled indulgently. "Oh Son, it's not a matter of changing your dreams, but of allowing yourself to dream of more - of something that may be _beyond_ what you could've ever imagined: an education…love…a family of your own…"

He shook his head vehemently. "I won't leave her behind, waiting. I won't. It would be the most…cowardly and unfair thing I could ever do to her."

"Oh, Darling," Esme said, her tender eyes holding Edward's gaze, "what would be cowardly and unfair would be you denying yourself what you feel and denying a young lady who may feel the same, the beauty of your heart. Everything else works itself out, one way or the other. You can't shut yourself off because you're afraid to _feel_. Trust me, Edward. No matter how hard you try, your heart won't allow it."

And with that, Esme Cullen walked back inside her home, leaving Edward to think over his mother's words, to figure out his thoughts and his heart…to imagine a summer without the river…

And without Bella.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thoughts?**

**AOI Playlist Song # 15:**

_**If I Didn't Care**_** (1939) by The Ink Spots:**

_**If I didn't care more than words can say****  
><strong>**If I didn't care would I feel this way?****  
><strong>**If this isn't love then why do I thrill?****  
><strong>**And what makes my head go 'round and 'round****  
><strong>**While my heart stands still?**_

**Twitter: PattyRosa817**

**Link to 'Stories by PattyRose' is on my profile page.**


	15. Chapter 14 - Summer Sisters

**A/N: Thanks so much for your wonderful thoughts. **

**Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes.**

**Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14 - Summer 1939: Summer Sisters<strong>

In mid-1939, while Europe was busy mobilizing for conflict, Alice and I were having a grand old summer in Chicago, USA.

It was the summer before I turned fifteen, an age when young girls begin to believe themselves women, and our parents' intelligence and advice is no longer considered as sage as it may have once been. Mother's words of wisdom had held question with me for at least a couple of years now, but my dad, Charlie, was still my hero, and I was thrilled to spend an entire summer with him. As for poor Charlie, after having had six years to get used to not seeing me every day, now he had on his hands not one but two teenaged girls at the brink of womanhood.

"What are you girls up to today?"

"Do you need me to come with you?"

"Are you sure you're okay around here by yourselves?"

"I'm sure Jacob would be more than happy to accompany you."

Charlie stopped hovering after about our second week there. He allowed us to proceed with our days however we saw fit as long as we helped around the house and volunteered at Church on Sundays – which left us with free afternoons and Saturdays where we could explore to our hearts' content.

Oh don't get me wrong, we were good girls. Still innocent where it mattered, with no inkling as to how we, along with an entire world, were about to lose all shreds of innocence. I suppose many may say that the things we did that summer mattered little in the grand scheme of things; that the lives of two young girls and their friends were inconsequential compared to what was going on in the rest of the world. And I suppose, to a point, they'd be correct.

Yet those memories are still some of the best that I carry in my heart, moments that replay in my head like one of those movie-picture reels we used to watch on Saturdays. Regardless of everything that happened afterwards, I wouldn't give up a minute of that summer.

Because everything does matter in the grand scheme of things. Everything - from the fluttering of the smallest butterfly to the detonation of the largest bomb - makes a difference. Most of the news that summer about the impending war in Europe…well, it's all vague in my memories.

But Alice, me, Seth, and…Jacob…that's still as fresh as sparkling water in a clear, summer stream.

OOOOOOOOOO

Alice and I spent our summer days cleaning and helping while our afternoons were spent with friends from the neighborhood. There was one boy, Seth, who was about seventeen or eighteen that summer, and he had his eye on tall, pretty Alice with her short, black hair and sky blue eyes. Alice would go on and on about how handsome Seth was and about how boldly he'd flirt with her as we spent afternoons and evenings on one or another's porch, talking and laughing.

"My goodness, the boy is bold!" I agreed one late-June morning as Alice and I prepared meals to take to church the following day.

"But he tones it down when your Pop is around," Alice chuckled.

"He's not a stupid boy," I snorted. "He knows my Dad will box his ears if he gets fresh in front of him!"

We both laughed, but then I stopped stirring the potatoes in the stew and looked at Alice.

"What about Jasper? I thought you said you loved him."

Alice paused her chopping to look at me.

"I do love Jasper. It's just some harmless flirting, Bella," she smiled. "Let's face it; this is most likely the first and last time I'll be this far from home."

I held her gaze, thinking of my treks from one end of the country to the other in the past six years, including trips to Paris, Rome, and London. We led such different lives, she and I, yet for the two and a half summer months we spent together every year, Alice and I were like sisters. It was why I couldn't bear the thought of doing without her this summer, even if I wasn't ready to go back to Forks, to face…him.

"I'm fine with it, honestly," she continued, "but I'd like to have at least some scandalous memories to keep me warm in my old age, and I sure as heck won't be making those in the mountains of Washington."

She laughed at what must have been my startled expression.

"You want to be scandalous?"

"Well, I'm not talking about running down the streets naked as a jaybird, Bella, but yes, I'd like to do something daring at least once in my life."

"Like kissing Seth you mean."

She grinned mischievously, but then slowly shook her head. "No," she sighed. "I won't kiss Seth…but _he_ doesn't have to know that!"

We broke into more fits of laughter, and once I took up my mixing again, Alice resumed her chopping.

"Bella…tell me what's going on between you and Jacob."

I kept my eyes glued to the stew pot, but I could feel the flush in my face, and I hoped the heat wafting from the stew could be blamed.

"Nothing is going on."

"I see the way he looks at you," Alice said. "You said you weren't sure if he still liked you, but from what I've seen in these past few weeks, I'm sure he does. He's just not as direct as his friend Seth."

"Alice, we grew up together. He's like a brother to me."

"I truly doubt he feels brotherly towards you," Alice chuckled.

I didn't respond, yet after a few moments, I could still feel her gaze on me.

"What?"

"Is that what you'd tell me if I asked you about Edward, that he's like a brother to you?"

My breath left me in a long rush, and I flashed startled eyes up to her.

Alice smirked. "Isabella Marie, just because you've never said anything doesn't mean I never noticed. I mean, I wasn't sure, but after everything that happened last summer…truth be told, I'm a bit hurt that here we are, best friends for almost six whole years now, and you haven't opened up to me about how you feel about my brother."

"I'm sorry, Ally, but he's your brother," I shrugged. "It felt…weird."

Alice frowned. "It's okay, but why would it feel weird to tell me?"

"I didn't want you to think I was being…a little girl."

"Why would I think you were being a little girl?"

My eyes dropped back to the pot, and I mixed away, fighting back the ache that always accompanied thoughts of Edward now.

"Because that's what Edward thinks of me."

Alice left the chopping block and made her way to me, but I couldn't lift my eyes from the pot.

"I've wondered sometimes…he's always been so…protective of you, always following you with his eyes."

"He's protective of you too."

"Yeah, but I'm his sister."

"That's all I am to him as well - just another pain-in-the-behind little sister."

"Hey!"

"You know what I mean."

Alice reached out and pushed back my long hair, holding my gaze thoughtfully.

"Is that the real reason why you didn't want to go back to Forks this summer? Because you didn't want to see him?"

I hung my head…and nodded.

"Oh Bella," she said softly, "Edward broke things off with Jessica that very same day of your party. He was so angry at her…and at himself."

"He should've been." I scowled peevishly and then felt like such a child for doing so. That was probably why Edward couldn't feel for me what I felt for him. "I don't know," I said. "I guess I didn't want to see any of the people that laughed at me. But yes," I admitted, "mostly, I didn't want to see…Edward. It was just so…" I closed my eyes - "humiliating."

Alice hugged me tightly.

"So he broke it off with her right away?" I asked. "Did he…did he say anything after I left?"

"Well, he didn't actually say anything - at least not to me. You know he'd never talk to me about any of that. But he acted really weird though - weirder than usual - for a long while."

I dropped my eyes to the stew once more. "I just…I can't face him. Not yet. Has he...ever mentioned me?"

Alice shook her head slowly, her eyes full of apology. "Not in any way that would let me know whether he saw you as something other than a little sister, but…I don't know."

"That's okay." I shrugged and forced a smile. "That's what I figured anyway."

I'd hoped Alice would be ready to drop the subject, but of course, she wasn't.

"Is Edward the reason why you won't kiss Jacob?"

There was no point in outright lying – not to Alice. "Maybe."

"Don't hold back because of Edward," she said softly. "I mean, he kissed Jessica. And there are always girls hanging around him in school, and in the store, and at baseball."

"I get it. I do," I nodded.

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Bella. My point is, most boys don't kiss just one girl all their lives. And just because we're girls doesn't mean we should limit ourselves to only liking one boy. It's not fair."

"Is this your way of saying you may actually kiss Seth after all?" I smirked.

"I…well…I just don't know!" She stomped her foot, and we both giggled again.

"Seriously, Bella, don't you ever wonder what it would be like to kiss Jacob, especially when he looks at you all moony-eyed?"

"Of course I've wondered, but it's not just thoughts of Edward that hold me back. I don't want to kiss one person when I don't really want him."

"But how can you know for sure you don't want him if you've just admitted that you wonder, yet you won't let yourself kiss him?"

"What if I get used to doing that and then do it all the time?"

"Do what?" she frowned.

"Kiss someone when my mind is truly on someone else. Then I'll marry someone and divorce him without a second thought."

"You're not going to be like your mother, Bella."

"How do you know I won't? I look more and more like her every day."

"Looking like her and acting like her are two different things. Besides, no one is talking about you marrying Jacob, just kissing him," she said with a sly grin. "Oh Bella, it would be grand if you married Edward one day so that you and I could be real sisters, but Bella…" she looked at me sadly. "Edward doesn't plan on ever getting married. You know that. You've heard him say it a thousand times, just as I have. He's going to join the Air Corps next year after he turns eighteen, and he'll be gone for a long time, and that will be that. So why shouldn't you kiss Jacob?"

I had no answer for her.

"Come on," Alice smiled. "Let's finish this stew and go make some scandalous memories to keep us nice and warm into our ripe, old age!"

We both laughed and went back to our cooking.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Today is Edward's seventeenth birthday," I reminded Alice a couple of mornings later.

We were in my bedroom, getting ready for the day.

"Oh my God, that's right!" she chuckled. "I can't believe I almost forgot." She sat on the edge of the bed and sucked her teeth. "Now we've got to stop and call home, and that's just going to cut into our time even more!"

I chuckled. "He's your brother. You have to call him on his birthday."

"Yes, yes," she agreed with a roll of her eyes. "He's probably working right now anyway. Come on, let's get going, and I'll call him this evening after supper."

For the rest of the day, my mind was on the copper-haired young man. I wondered what he looked like this summer. He was now seventeen, and I wondered how he'd changed from sixteen, from the previous year; was his hair longer or shorter? Had the tips turned that blondish-red shade they tended to turn in the middle of the summer? Had he grown even taller? I'd grown a bit over the past year as well. At five foot three inches, I was exactly Mother's height, and having begun my menstrual cycle last winter, the school nurse had informed me that I'd be going through changes, though she hadn't gone into detail as to what these changes were. She did tell me that I probably wouldn't be growing much more height-wise.

My first thought then had been that Edward would tower over me forever.

And then I'd sighed quietly because really, what difference did it make?

Did he ever think of me this way? Did he ever even once stop what he was doing as I often did, struck immobile by thoughts of him, by the memory of his smile, of his evergreen eyes?

Had he even noticed I wasn't around this summer?

He was seventeen years old now, practically a man for all intents and purposes. Our male friends here in Chicago were seventeen and eighteen, so I knew they all looked more like men than boys. Yet to them, I was Isabella: a friend, an equal.

In Edward's eyes, I would forever be a _Little Girl_.

OOOOOOOOOO

Alice called home after dinner, and after speaking to Esme and Carlisle, she asked to speak to Edward. I knew when he'd picked up the telephone because she broke into a very bad rendition of "_Happy Birthday." _

"May I speak with him?"

I hadn't even realized I was going to ask until the words were out, and my heart began racing in my chest, especially when Alice quickly held out the telephone to me.

With a deep breath, I took the telephone from her before I could change my mind.

"…you're no Alice Faye that's for darn sure," he was saying. "I suggest you lay off the singing and stick to more-"

"Hello?"

"Hello?"

I drew in a few successive breaths and steeled myself. "Happy Birthday, Edward."

For what felt like forever, there was no sound other than the crackling of the phones.

"Bella?"

"Yes." I tried my best to keep my voice from trembling. "I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday."

"Oh. Uhm…thanks."

Silence again.

"All right. Goodbye then."

"Bella, wait! Wait, wait!"

My breath hitched. "Yes?"

"Bella, I…I…I didn't want to talk to you over the telephone-"

"You didn't?"

"Wait! What I mean is…I…I want to say I'm sorry for what happened at your party."

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly.

He was sorry for the party.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not," he said, sounding almost angry. "It's not. I should've never…you know."

"It's all right. It's all forgotten."

He was quiet for a few seconds. "It's _all_ forgotten?"

"Yes."

Again, we were both silent while the air crackled noisily between us.

"All right. Goodbye, Edward."

I quickly gave back the phone to Alice. She held it in her hand for a few seconds, watching me carefully before putting it back to her mouth and to her ear, and I turned away from her, running up the stairs as I inhaled and exhaled through narrowed lips, trying to regulate my thrumming heart.

No matter what, I would always crave Edward's friendship. His laughter. His smiles. And if I wanted that, then I had to learn to be like Jacob and pretend that friendship was enough.

OOOOOOOOOO

We spent the rest of that summer with new friends and a new awareness of ourselves – at least Alice did. She was a beauty, tall and shapely, with hair so black it was almost blue and blue eyes that contrasted radiantly with both her alabaster skin and dark hair. She had a confidence around young men as well, one I could only imitate, still uncomfortable in my own skin. Yes, my boobs were growing, but they were still pretty small, more like tangerines than like the big, red apples I'd stuffed inside my dress the previous summer. And though Alice swore to me that I was developing curves everywhere else, I couldn't see them.

One evening, Dad allowed us to spend the night at our friend Angela's house because we begged and begged, and poor Charlie didn't quite know how to refuse one teenaged girl, much less two. Besides, Dad knew her parents well. They were definitely nice and responsible folk, but they worked long hours and were soon fast asleep in their bedroom upstairs. Angela, assuring us that her parents slept like the dead, looked out her window and told our friends waiting outside to meet us in the basement. So Seth, Jacob, Brady, Angela, Alice and I ended up in the basement having an impromptu party with Glen Miller and Billie Holiday on the radio, learning to swing dance with cigarettes in our mouths and cups full of bathtub gin in our hands.

Now I took one sip of that homemade concoction and spit it out in one long stream, but Alice downed the entire cupful. So then we ended up in the bathroom a few minutes later with me holding back Alice's pretty bob while she vomited into the toilet bowl. Seth was at her other side, and Jacob waited just outside the small bathroom, continually asking me if there was anything he could do.

##########

Skye grins teasingly. "Nana, you were smoking, drinking and dancing at a makeshift party with great-great grandpa Charlie unaware? You fresh, scandalous girl!"

"Skye," Isabella warns.

I laugh. "Well, we were definitely working on Alice's scandalous memories, yes. Besides, as I keep telling you children, times haven't changed all that much. Don't think we don't know what you're all up to because we were up to pretty much the same."

"Mama, I never heard that story before," Leah chuckles.

"You haven't heard many of my stories before, Sweetheart. Make yourself comfortable; we've still got a bit to go," I confirm.

##########

The party ended pretty quickly after that. We cleaned up, and Angela, Alice and I made our way on tip-toes to Angela's bedroom.

"I'm so embarrassed!" Alice moaned while the three of us lay like sardines over Angela's bed. "I'll never be able to live that down!"

I held Alice's hand tightly. "Alice, it could've been worse."

"How could it have been worse?" she questioned doubtfully.

"Think…apples." I smiled in the darkness.

There were a few seconds of silence, and then Alice giggled and hugged me.

"What about apples?" Angela asked.

"Never mind," both Alice and I said.

"Well, I've got something that'll make you both forget all about apples and vomiting," Angela said with a smile in her voice. She turned on her lamp and reached under her bed, coming up with a magazine.

"I swiped this from my dad's closet when he wasn't looking."

Side by side we sat up in bed and stared at one another, wide eyed.

"Should we look at it?" I asked.

"I don't know," Alice said.

"Of course we should," Angela chuckled. "Here. We'll close our eyes, and I'll turn to a random page, and then we'll count to three and open our eyes at the same time. Deal?"

Alice and I looked at one another and shrugged.

So we closed our eyes. Angela flipped the magazine to a random page and counted quietly to three before we opened up, and when we did, I do believe all our mouths fell wide open.

"That can't be real! She can't really have put that in her mouth!" Alice whispered. She flipped the magazine to the front cover. "Are you sure this isn't a horror magazine? This can't be real!"

We gaped at one another again - and then broke out into hysterical fits.

"Eww! Ewww!" Alice cried. "And is that what they really look like? Oh my goodness, that's the ugliest thing I've ever seen! I think I may vomit again!"

"Let's not look at anymore!" I said.

"Definitely not!" Angela agreed.

Ten minutes later, we were still flipping through pages, having slowly become both reconciled and acclimated with what we were looking at.

"All right, just one last one," Alice said.

We repeated the same process: closing our eyes, flipping blindly and then opening to another page. Now for this particular illustration, I had to flip the magazine sideways to understand what I was seeing.

"I've seen horses do that," Alice finally confirmed.

Angela shrugged. "All right, one more and that's really it."

The last one silenced us yet again.

"I'd let Brady do that to me," Angela finally whispered.

"You would?" I asked.

"Yes," she confirmed. "He's already touched them."

"It kind of makes you tingle between your legs, doesn't it? Looking at that."

I said nothing.

"Isabella, how about you?" Angela asked. "Would you ever let a boy kiss them like that?"

I glanced down at my chest. "Even if I wanted to, there wouldn't be much there to kiss."

Alice pursed her lips. "Bella, I keep telling you: they're growing!"

I shrugged. "It doesn't matter anyway. Come on, let's go to sleep."

And with that, Angela shoved the magazine far under her bed, and we shut off the lamp.

Half an hour later, I was still awake, though I could hear Angela snoring to my left, and Alice's rhythmic breathing to my right.

"Alice," I whispered. "Alice."

"What?"

"Do you think Edward did any of that with Jessica?"

"I don't know, but...I don't think so, Bella," Alice whispered back. "Go to sleep."

Another hour or so passed while I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling.

OOOOOOOOOO

The weeks passed. In late July, it got really hot in Chicago. Lacking a nearby river, we made plans one afternoon to take a drive to a lake not too far away. Seth had a car, and so after most of the boys had finished work for the day, our group made its way over there for a swim.

It was a very pretty lake with cool, sparkling waters and a shallow shoreline that made it easy to wade in slowly. But the sight of the lake, though cool and inviting, made me homesick for Forks, for my beautiful, cool river…and for the copper-haired boy who always took care of me…his little girl.

After wading in the shallow end for the better part of an hour, I wrapped myself in a towel and took a seat in the warm grass just a few feet away, folding up my legs and watching Angela and Brady swim off together while Alice played and splashed with Seth. It was a scene so reminiscent of summers past, yet so different.

Jacob took a seat next to me.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It's...very nice, yes."

"Why aren't you in there with her?"

I smiled, giggling when Seth picked up Alice and unceremoniously dumped her a few feet away in the water, making her squeal.

"I'd rather just watch for now."

Jacob sat there silently, but I could feel him side-eyeing me.

"Jacob, you don't have to stay out here with me," I assured him. "I'm really fine by myself."

"I know you are, but I'd rather be out here too."

His voice was low and unsure, and I bit my lip miserably because what good was a friendship when you couldn't even be honest with each other?

I turned to look at him, and he slowly met my gaze.

"Jacob…do you remember when I was here a couple of years ago, and you tried to-"

"To kiss you." He swallowed thickly. "Yes, I remember. But Isabella, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"But Jacob, _this_ makes me uncomfortable," I admitted. "This…making believe that everything is fine between us."

He frowned, pinching his full lips tightly as he glared down at the ground. I took the opportunity to study him. His hair was as dark as Alice's and his skin almost as dark due to the Native American blood that coursed through him. He was tall and so very muscular, and the sun made his bare, brown shoulders almost glow.

"Do you still…want to kiss me?"

This time, his eyes flashed back to mine quickly. "I don't want to do anything that you don't want to do, Isabella."

I sighed and reached out, curling my hand around his shoulder.

"Jacob, I don't know if I want to kiss you. I'm…confused, I guess."

I smiled apologetically, but his mouth broke out into a large grin that showcased perfectly white teeth.

"You mean, you may actually _want_ to…kiss me?" The hope in his voice was painfully audible.

I studied my hand on his shoulder.

"Isabella, you know I'd never rush you or anything, but half of the summer is already gone. Besides, I'll be leaving come fall, and I don't know when I'll be back."

My eyes shot up to his sharply. "Where are you going?"

"I'm off to the Navy – Seth, Brady and I. There's nothing for us here, Isabella, just odd jobs when we're lucky, so we're off to serve our country, and hopefully, by the time we get back, things will be better."

For years I'd been hearing Edward talk of his wish to go off and join the Air Corps and fly his planes. It wasn't until the past few weeks or so, with all the talk of impending war in Europe that I'd begun to understand what that meant.

"But Jacob," I breathed, "there's talk of war."

He smirked and shook his head. "There won't be war, Isabella, at least not here in the U.S. Our President won't let that happen."

I held his gaze, imagining Edward…and Jacob in places so far away, places of which I didn't want to think. My lungs suddenly felt tight and constricted.

"Are you okay?" Jacob asked.

"Yes, I'm fine. Jacob, are you sure the war won't come here?"

"I'm very sure, only…"

"Only what?"

"Only now you've got me wondering. Isabella, if I tried to kiss you now, would you let me?"

My breath caught in my throat. I inhaled deeply and let my eyes wander to the lake, to where Alice now stood with Seth so very close. He held her chin in his hands, and she gazed up at him in awe.

To Edward, I would never be more than a little girl. Even when we'd spoken on the telephone for his birthday, he'd had no more than two sentences for me. Perhaps friends were all we were fated to be…perhaps it was time to let go of that little girl's dream.

I swallowed thickly and met Jacob's hopeful gaze head on.

"You'll never know unless you try."

He drew in a deep breath, and as I watched him slowly lower his mouth to mine, I closed my eyes.

For a couple of years now, I'd been dreaming of my first kiss. Alice had filled my head with comparisons to fireworks - to heaven, to hell and to everything in between.

When Jacob's lips met mine, his kisses were soft, sweet, tender and…very pleasant. He pressed his mouth lightly to mine a couple of times and then gently sucked on my top lip before pulling away.

Smiling, he asked, "How was that?"

"That was…very nice."

"Was that your first kiss?"

I nodded.

"I'm glad it was me."

A sharp, little ache tickled my chest, but I forced it down and away.

"May I kiss you again?" he requested hopefully.

I filled my lungs. "Yes. Yes, you may."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hold on, hold on. Let me grab my shield, armor and chainmail!**

**Okay, fire at will, fire at will!**

**I mean, Thoughts? ;)**

**I received a lot of comments after the last chapter with readers hoping that Edward would go to Chicago with Alice to see Bella, but there were at least a couple of reasons why that wouldn't have been possible (at least in my mind):**

**First, Edward is working full-time for the summer. This was 1939, still the Great Depression, and finding a job of any kind was a HUGE blessing. It's not very likely that he could've asked his boss for what would've been at least a week off to travel to Chicago. It would've taken at least three days to get there, and then three days back. **

**Second, it cost a pretty penny to buy a ticket from Washington State to Chicago, a pretty penny which Edward, as well as his family, were in no position to spend without some serious consideration. It was already a bit of a hardship for Carlisle and Esme to send Alice to Chicago, and I doubt they would've had the funds to send Edward. Yes, perhaps Edward could've paid for his own ticket with the money he was making, but again, it would've been quite an expense, and Edward was working mostly to save for Masen, and again, what were the chances he could've gotten the time off?**

**Lastly, who's to say that Edward would've been welcome under Charles Swan's roof? Not because Bella would've made him feel unwelcome or tattled to her dad about how Edward treated her the summer before, but the truth is that Edward was an unknown, seventeen-year old boy, and I'm not so sure that Charlie would've been comfortable having this virtual stranger under the same roof as his fifteen-year-old daughter. Yes, he could've stayed in a hotel, but again, it would've been cost-prohibitive.**

**Chapter song rec: **

**AOI Playlist Song # 16:**

_**I Wonder Who's Kissing Her Now**_** (1939) by Ted Weems and Perry Como:**

_**I wonder who's kissing her now  
><strong>__**Wonder who's teaching her how  
><strong>__**Wonder who's looking into her eyes  
><strong>__**Breathing her sighs…**_

**Twitter: PattyRosa817**

**Link to 'Stories by PattyRose' is on my profile page.**

**Have a great weekend!**


	16. Chapter 15- 1939: The Summer Without Her

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your continuously wonderful reviews. You guys are just the best. **

**As I type this A/N, snowflakes are falling outside of my window. We're expecting 18 – 24 inches between today and tomorrow, and while I LOVE snow, I'm truly hoping we don't lose power! Therefore, I'm posting a bit early just in case. **

**Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes.**

**Most characters belong to S. Meyer, the rest is all mine.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15 – 1939: The Summer Without Her<strong>

Edward spent the summer of 1939 working at the mill and helping around the farm. Masen was working long days at the mill and then dedicating every spare moment he had to laying down a foundation for the house he planned to build for him and Rose to live in someday. Come fall, Masen would be off to college, but next summer, Rose would be graduating high school and marrying him. The house would probably take a few years to complete; in the meantime, Rose would live with Carlisle and Esme, and Masen would come home to her whenever he could. When Masen finished college, he'd come home to stay, apprentice under Carlisle, and eventually take over the vet business.

In the meantime, Edward and Jasper would work on Masen's house as much as they could, at least until Edward's turn to go away, and Jasper's turn to marry a Cullen.

That was the plan.

Therefore, it was a busy summer. Their days by the river became nothing more than memories, a legacy to their younger days before adult responsibilities began creeping in.

Yet Edward thought of those days constantly.

He'd stop while at the mill or while laying down two by fours or as he was holding down a cow for examination. At those times, he'd remember every single summer with Bella: her yearly arrivals, her bright, golden eyes, her sweet laughter, her beautiful, long, dark hair waving behind her as she ran to meet him. His mind replayed every single day with her, from that first encounter when she'd almost drowned, to the regular, mundane days when they'd done nothing more than play by the river. He remembered the camp-out, when he'd stared at the top of his tent all night berating himself for having scared her so badly and wishing he could just wrap her in his arms and keep her safe – always.

Bella's arrival in Forks was what he'd always looked forward to for nine and a half months out of the year. She ushered in the warmth that kindled his heart for the rest of the year. _She_ was the summer; he knew that now. He could…admit that now.

Now that she wasn't here.

OOOOOOOOOO

Sundays, which had once been reserved for attending church before relaxing by the river, were now reserved for working on Masen's foundation. They hammered and sawed and argued and laughed because working on the foundation had become their form of recreation. More men than boys now, they knew they couldn't spend all summer by the river, no matter how much they may have wanted to.

They took breaks and ate sandwiches over the grass, and then afterwards, Masen, Edward and Jasper shared their thoughts in one of the limited ways young men their ages were able to share.

So while Masen sat on the grass, watching and snickering at the sight of Edward and Jasper circling one another, Edward and Jasper stood with fists up and ready.

"In honor of your birthday today, I'm gonna take you down, Boy," Jasper sneered, swiping his nose with his thumb. "Like Joe Louis did a couple of weeks ago with Tony "Two Ton," I'm gonna wipe the floor with you, Cullen."

Edward smirked, bouncing lightly from one foot to the other. "Whitlock, you talk more garbage than did Two Ton before he got the ever-living lights knocked out of him."

Jasper chuckled. "Son, I'm gonna make a gift outta that pretty nose of yours. Think I'll break it into seventeen pieces and blacken both those eyes so that if little Miss Bella ever does return-"

Edward shut Jasper up with a left hook that sent him reeling.

"Edward, take it easy!" Masen yelled.

Jasper licked the blood off his lip and warily moved forward again. "Didn't like that, did you, Cullen? What's the matter? D'ja think we hadn't noticed? Tell you what though, what I'd still like to know is why you acted like such a dumb-ass last- Oof!"

Edward knocked Jasper to the ground with a right cross, followed by a left uppercut.

Jasper shook his head from side to side, and appearing somewhat dazed, staggered back to his feet, shaky fists in front.

"Just tell us once and for all what you're thinking," Jasper asked in all seriousness, dropping his fists to his sides. "Ed, I've known that girl was yours since the first day I met her, and you gave me that evil eye warning me off. Masen says it's been that way since the day you met her."

"You two spend your time gossipin' about my life like little old ladies?" Edward asked.

"What's going on, Brother?" Jasper asked, ignoring Edward's ire. "What was all that crap last summer? Why'd you purposely do everything possible to push her away?"

Edward's nostrils flared. He pulled back a fist and Jasper cringed, closing one eye…

But the fist never made contact. Instead, Edward dropped down over the grass and let his head fall forward, cradling it in his hands. Jasper sat a few feet away from him.

"I was trying to protect her. I did it for her own good."

"Protect her from what?" Masen questioned.

"From me, of course," Edward answered, looking at his brother as if it should've been obvious. "You're the one who told me when we were kids that she's meant for Peter." At Masen's blank look, Edward raised a brow. "Rich girls don't end up with poor boys."

Masen shook his head slowly back and forth. "That's what's been eating at you? Ed, Little Brother, you put way too much stock in what I say. What the hell do I know about what rich girls do? 'Sides, Bella's never been like most rich girls - like Lauren and such."

"Regardless, it wouldn't work," Edward said, glaring at the ground, angrily pulling up the grass next to him.

Masen frowned. "Why wouldn't it work? Cuz she's young? Rosie was younger than that."

"It's more than all that," Edward scowled.

"Yeah, yeah," Masen smirked. "I think I can guess at the rest of it, but that bit's up to you; you do know that, right?"

"It may not _all_ be up to me," Edward muttered. "What would I ever have to offer?"

Masen stared at his brother and shook his head. "Like I said, that's up to you. But if you don't even want to give it a go, then you can hold up them fists as high as you want and you still won't be man enough for a real fight."

OOOOOOOOOO

Edward spent the next few hours thinking about what Masen had said. He thought all the way into the early evening when Alice called from Chicago. She spoke to their parents first, and then to him to wish him a happy birthday, and all the while Edward wondered where Bella was, even as Alice broke into a pretty bad rendition of _'Happy Birthday.'_

"Alice Cullen, you're no Alice Faye that's for darn sure," he snickered. "I suggest you lay off the singing and stick to more-"

"Hello?"

His heart stopped.

"Hello?"

"Happy Birthday, Edward."

He had a voice, he knew he did, but for the life of him, he couldn't find it. For what felt like hours, the air crackled noisily between them before he was finally able to form a word.

"Bella?"

"Yes."

Edward closed his eyes, allowing himself two seconds to revel in the sweetness of that word. He swallowed thickly.

"I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday," she said.

"Oh. Uhm…thanks," he replied, swallowing the excess saliva in his mouth while his mind raced with all the things he wanted to say to her. For almost a year, he'd been waiting for this moment – no, not exactly this moment because he'd wanted to speak to her personally, but she was on the telephone, apparently willing to speak to him. It was more than he'd allowed himself to hope for.

Yet he had no idea where to begin, what to say - especially with his Mama and Pop right there.

"All right. Good bye."

And suddenly, his chance to fix things was almost gone.

"Bella, wait! Wait, wait!"

"Yes?" she said, sounding almost annoyed.

"Bella, I…I…I didn't want to talk to you over the telephone-"

"You didn't?" Now she really sounded upset.

"Wait! What I mean is…I…I…" Edward looked up to find his Mama and Pop's eyes right on him. They quickly shifted their gazes when they saw him catch them staring, Esme pretending to mix something over the stove while Carlisle hid behind his newspaper.

He drew in a deep breath, wondering what he could possibly say with an audience around.

##########

"Why didn't he just walk with the phone into another room?" Skye (Olivia) asks impatiently. "Lock himself in the bathroom or something?"

"Sweetheart," I smile, "back in those days, the telephone was fixed to the wall, and the cord was very short. There wasn't much moving around while you were on the telephone."

"Oh," Skye (Olivia smirks). "Well that sucks."

I chuckle. "Yes. Yes, it did suck."

##########

"I want to say I'm sorry for what happened at your party."

She was quiet for a few seconds while his heart hammered in his chest.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not," he said, angry at himself all over again for the events of the previous summer. "It's not. I should've never…" He looked up.

His parents were watching again. Once more, they quickly shifted their gazes.

He smirked. "…you know."

Jesus, he wished she was right there with him. Better yet, he wished they were somewhere alone so he could talk to her about _everything_.

"It's all right. It's all forgotten."

He frowned, wondering what exactly that meant.

"It's _all_ forgotten?"

"Yes."

His hand tightened around the telephone and shut his eyes against every implication in those three words. All forgotten. It was _all_ forgotten.

Of course it was. What more could he have expected?

"All right. Goodbye, Edward."

"Wait! Bella, wait!" But in the next instant, Alice was back on the line, and Edward stood there, cursing his life.

And so the days passed, and Edward worked and slept and worked…and wondered just what in the hell he was working towards.

OOOOOOOOOO

One day in mid-July, he was at the mercantile with Jasper and Masen. They'd gone to pick up some supplies they'd ordered: nails and a couple of new saws and such, but Mike Newton, a classmate of Edward's and the store clerk who had replaced him when he'd left the Stanley's Mercantile, was as slow as molasses.

"You need some help back there, Newton?" Edward called out impatiently while Masen and Jasper snickered behind him. "Almost a year into the job and still having trouble finding your way around the stockroom?"

"That guy would have trouble finding his way around his own back yard," Masen whispered.

Jasper chuckled again, and Edward shook his head.

"Well, good afternoon, Young Men."

Edward turned around to find Philip Dwyer behind the three of them, dressed in one of his three-piece suits, hat in hand.

"Afternoon, Mr. Dwyer," they each responded.

"How's the summer been treating you boys?"

"Not too bad," Masen smiled while Edward and Jasper each mumbled "okay" not too convincingly.

"Masen, I hear congratulations are in order for a wedding that's to occur next year?"

"Yes, Sir." Masen beamed proudly.

"I wish you the best, Son. I truly do. You've grown into a fine, young man and…I'm sure your parents are both very proud of you."

Edward could feel his brother's discomfort at this unexpected bit of praise. He heard Masen mumble a few words of gratitude.

Dwyer seemed to stare at Masen for a few seconds, and then blinking, he clapped his hands once and grinned.

"So, are you all missing the girls yet this summer?"

Edward turned around and dropped his gaze at the question.

"Summers sure aren't the same without the little sisters," he heard Masen chuckle.

"Yeah. They've sure taken the best of the season with them," Jasper griped.

Edward said nothing. Instead, he busied himself with staring at the displays of lace directly inside the glass counter over which he was leaning. Soon, Mr. Stanley came out and engaged Mr. Dwyer in conversation, relieving Edward and the boys from that duty. And while Edward continued waiting for their supplies, he half-listened to their conversation.

"I give it a few months before all hell breaks loose over there," Mr. Dwyer said.

"You think so? I don't know. I think the British will still try to find a way to keep it from coming to war."

"It's too late for that. The Nazis have signed a pact with Mussolini. They're gearing up. What more signs do you need that Hitler is not stopping until he's stopped?"

"As long as it doesn't come here."

"Well, if it comes here, it may not be so bad for us businessmen," Philip chuckled.

"It's coming here," Edward found himself saying.

Mr. Dwyer and Mr. Stanley looked at him.

"I don't think FDR will allow that to happen," Mr. Stanley said.

Edward leaned against the glass counter case. "My pop says he's heard that our military is planning on conscripting more guys by the end of the year."

"Yes," Mr. Dwyer said, holding Edward's gaze. "Yes, I've heard that too."

"Well, I sure hope they don't call me up to serve," Mike said, finally emerging from the stock room – with what looked like only half of Edward's supplies.

"You've got a responsibility to your country if they call you up," Edward said, not even bothering to disguise the disgust in his voice.

"How 'bout you boys?" Mr. Dwyer asked. "Do you boys plan to enlist?"

"Soon as I turn eighteen next year, Sir," Edward confirmed.

"If I'm called to serve, then I'll do so with honor," Masen said, "but I don't plan on volunteering like my brother here," he chuckled.

"Hey, where's the rest of our stuff?" Jasper said, interrupting the topic of conversation. "Where's the other bag of nails? And the hammers? And the-"

"I'm bringing it! I'm bringing it!" Mike moaned, disappearing back into the stock room. "I gotta find the rest. 'Sides, it's heavy stuff!"

"We're still waiting for our supplies as well, Son!" Mr. Dwyer called out.

"Wish you wouldn't have quit," Mr. Stanley said as a regretful aside to Edward, "even if you and my daughter did end on bad terms. Lots of people needing jobs, yet good help is _still_ damn hard to find."

Just then, Jessica walked out from the back, where her house connected to the store, and Edward was reminded of why he was so quick to quit the job at the mercantile.

"Edward, you're a filthy mess!" She pulled off his cap and wiped off the dust from his hair. "Where are your manners? Keeping your cap on indoors!"

Edward backed away from her so that her hand fell from his hair, and taking back his cap, he replaced it over his head.

"I apologize for my lack of manners, but I figured keeping the cap on would be better than spreading dust all over your store," he muttered, trying not to be too rude to her in front of her pop. Besides, sometimes he still felt sort of bad about how he'd pretty much used her last summer.

But when he'd remember how she'd laughed at Bella…well, all his pity would more or less disappear.

"You know, Mike rearranged all the shelves you set up in the back," she grinned. "Says he can't understand what kind of system you had going cuz it sure as hell makes no sense. His system, he can find things easier."

"His system must be working wonders," Edward said dryly, "especially when we've been waiting near twenty minutes here for our supplies, and Dwyer's been waiting just as long."

Jessica scowled at him and stomped back into her house. Edward suppressed a grin, but when he turned around, he was momentarily startled and embarrassed to find Dwyer looking directly at him.

The chiming of the bell over the door signaled another customer, and when Edward turned to see who it was, for once split second, his heart jumped in his chest.

If it wasn't for the blond hair and blue eyes, the curvier figure, and the air of entitlement that swirled all around Renee Dwyer, Edward would've sworn it was Bella. The resemblance was at times like a punch in the gut. It reminded him that one day soon, Bella would be seventeen…eighteen…and he knew what was expected of her.

As soon as Renee caught sight of Edward and the other two young men, she rolled her eyes away from them. And while all three young men greeted her entrance with the respect afforded any lady, she completely ignored them.

"Philip, Darling, are you ready to go?"

"Not quite yet," Philip responded. "Young Mr. Newton is still searching for my order."

"Ugh, these small-town boys have no idea how to run a business, even a small-town business such as this."

"Now, now, Renee," Philip said, a note of exasperation in his tone, "I'm sure the Newton boy is doing his best."

"I'm sure he is," she retorted sarcastically, and while Edward could only agree with her assessment of Mike, there was no way in hell he was going to agree with her aloud.

And so they continued waiting around, and Edward heard Renee Dwyer complaining about how small the store was, how she was beginning to feel claustrophobic, how barbaric it was that there was only one main store in the entire town, how she'd much rather vacation in her home in New York, or better yet, in Europe.

Not once did she mention her daughter.

"I've already explained to you, Darling," Philip said, "if we'd stayed in New York, then that isn't really a vacation is it? And we can't go to Europe at the moment with all the conflict going on over there."

She either dismissed him or the conflict with an angry wave of her hand.

Mike finally appeared with the rest of their order, as well as with Mr. Dwyer's order, and he received all the ribbing he deserved from Masen and Jasper.

"Maybe you should let my brother here help you rearrange everything back there in a way that makes sense." Masen laughed, while Mike glared down at the bills of sale. Edward said nothing, not even when it was apparent that Mike had no idea how to add up all their supplies. Masen and Jasper again tried to be helpful, but between them and Mike, none of them could figure it out.

Finally out of patience, Edward snatched the bills out of Mikes hand and took a look at them, quickly letting Mike know how much they owed.

"You sure?" Mike asked, glowering at him suspiciously.

"When you have time and you don't have a line of people waiting, go ahead and take all the time you need to do the math, and let me know if we owe you anything!" He slammed the money down on the counter.

"Edward's calculations are correct," Mr. Dwyer said, a note of amusement in his features as he moved up to claim his own purchases. "I vouch for it, Mr. Newton."

"Philip, let them pay for their own things!" Renee screeched.

"I'm merely vouching for young Mr. Cullen's mathematical abilities," Dwyer said, and then to Edward, "That was pretty quick adding there, Young Man."

Edward acknowledged the compliment with a nod.

"As my wife doesn't seem to believe a small-town boy capable of such things," he continued as he paid for his items, "I'm happy to point out her erroneous misconceptions whenever I can, especially since she often seems to forget that I'm a small-town boy as well."

"Yes, well, it's difficult to acknowledge the accomplishments of individuals who caused me – and our daughter," she added quickly, "quite a bit of embarrassment last summer, and who are at fault for her not wanting to return this summer. As a matter of fact, she may not want to return to Forks anymore at all. Which is fine by me, as she'll be having her coming out in a couple of years and-"

Edward felt as if all the air were being sucked out of the small store.

"Of course she's returning next summer, Renee. I allowed her a summer in Chicago, but I'll be wanting our daughter back with us next summer, as I'm sure you will, Darling."

"Of course," Renee smirked. "I just hope that when she does return, she'll have a better understanding of what constitutes meaningful friendships." She looked pointedly at Edward.

"I'm sure she will," Philip said, and Edward could feel his gaze on him. "Time and distance tends to do that, one way or another. We're pretty lonely this summer. Lauren is with her mother in California, and our friends, the Vandernecks, aren't visiting us this season since their son, Peter, started University last year and will be spending the summer interning with his father."

"Well prepared young man, that Peter," Masen said solemnly though Edward could hear the taunt in his voice. He was surprised when Mr. Dwyer's mustache twitched as if he'd picked up on the sarcasm – and found it humorous.

"Yes, _he_ definitely is," Renee agrees.

"Well, he was born with many opportunities, and he's not wasting them, which is always a good thing. Wasted opportunities are a true shame." Again, Philip held Edward's gaze.

"Well, he ain't the only one heading for University," Masen said proudly. "I'll be going to Washington State this fall, and then once that's done, I'm going to come home and take over Pop's Vet clinic, and my Rose and I will be keeping warm up in these mountains by making lots and lots of babies!"

Edward and all the men, including Philip, roared with laughter.

Renee made a sound of disgust.

"That's very commendable of you, Masen. Good luck in school, and as I said, in all your endeavors."

"Thank you, Mr. Dwyer."

"Now if you young men wouldn't mind helping my wife and me with these packages, we'd be extremely grateful."

"Sure," Masen said.

It wasn't much, and Philip could've probably handled it all himself, but that's how rich folk were. So Edward, Jasper and Masen left their own supplies behind for a couple of minutes while each picked up a small bag and headed towards the door. When Mrs. Dwyer, Masen and Jasper had exited, Philip turned around, stopping Edward.

"I hear from Isabella that she and your sister are having a grand old time in Chicago."

Edward swallowed thickly. "She's enjoying her summer then?"

"Yes, she is," Philip confirmed.

They stared at each other.

"Well," Edward began, "I best get this bag to your-"

"Edward…we've known each other for a few years, yet this is the most we've talked since you offered to watch Isabella's dog while she was in school. Your brother plans to build a house, go to vet school, and settle down here with his sweetheart, and your friend there makes it pretty obvious he's got similar aspirations with your sister. Tell me, Edward, what are your plans for the future?"

"Well…my plans have always been to join the Air Corps, Sir. To serve my country."

Phil bounced on the heels of his feet as he listened. "That's certainly an honorable and commendable goal, but do you have plans to further your education past high school?"

Edward shrugged. "Maybe one day, when I'm done with the Service."

"Why afterwards?" Phil asked.

"I've just…never wanted the delay. I've had these plans for years, Sir."

Yet even as he said it, he saw her face in his mind… he heard her laughter in his memory. He shook his head quickly, feeling as if somehow, Dwyer had just seen into and through his mind.

"'Sides, there's no money for college, and no good jobs anyhow," he continued hastily. "What'd be the point in my delaying?"

"No, there aren't many jobs now," Philip agreed, "but if that war comes, there'll be plenty of jobs – all types of jobs. Ask your father. He's an intelligent man; I'm sure he's realized this. And those that get in on the ground floor...well, there's plenty of opportunity for those that get in the ground floor."

Edward felts Philip's intense gaze on him, as if he were being studied, and it left him with a feeling of exposure, as if the man before him could read every single thought, every last internal debate he'd ever held with himself regarding his daughter.

He started to walk to the door again.

"You know, Edward, sometimes delays aren't so bad," Philip said, halting Edward's steps once more. "They give us time to think and grow; they open up new opportunities and different avenues we may never have considered. You've always struck me as an intelligent individual - beyond the quick, school smarts you displayed a few minutes ago. Tell me, if you did further your education, what do you think would interest you?"

Edward shrugged. "Well, I've always been good with numbers, I suppose, and with building things."

"An engineer," Phil said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "The war and beyond would bring lots of great opportunities for good engineers."

"Maybe someday," Edward said, anxious to get out of that damn store. "'Sides, I'd have to work first - earn money for college. Between Masen and me, only one of us is going right now, and I'd never take from him."

"Nor would I ever suggest you do," Philip said solemnly. "I'd never take from your brother either."

The entire conversation seemed pretty strange to Edward, and before he could attempt to excuse himself and end the peculiar direction of their talk, Masen and Jasper ran back into the store.

"Hey, Edward, what's the hold up?" Masen said. "Bag too heavy for you? You want me to ask Mikey to help?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "I'd better go."

Philip nodded. "Yes. Yes, of course. It was good talking to you, Edward. Think about what I said. And I'll let Isabella know you asked after her when I next speak to her."

Edward swallowed thickly. "Yes, Sir. All right, thank you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thoughts?**

**AOI Playlist Song # 17:**

_**Wishing (Will Make It So)**_** (1939) by Glen Miller:**

_**The curtain of night will part**__**  
><strong>__**If you are certain within your heart**__**  
><strong>__**So if you wish long enough, wish strong enough, you will come to know**__**  
><strong>__**Wishing will make it so**_

**Twitter: PattyRosa817**

**Link to 'Stories by PattyRose' is on my profile page.**

**If you're in the North East like me, stay warm and stay safe against the coming blizzard! And if you don't hear from me on Thursday, it's probably because I'm buried under a mountain of snow! **


	17. Chapter 16 - New Opportunities

**A/N: Thanks so much for your reviews, Guys. I am so enjoying reading all your thoughts and theories. Some of you are really so great at reading between the lines!**

**And thank you for all the well-wishes you guys sent, hoping I wouldn't be buried under two feet of snow for the next few days! As it was, the weather forecasters were **_**waaay**_** of base. We only received about 7 inches or so. Weather forecasting has to seriously be one of the best professions ever: you only have to be right about 10% of the time and have absolutely no consequences to face for being wrong. But on the bright side: I'm still here!**

**Anyway, let's get back to the story. **

**Betad by the lovely Michelle Renker Rhodes.**

**Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest is all mine.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16 – New Opportunities<strong>

A few days after that trip into the Mercantile, Edward was returning home from a late escape he'd made to the river with Jasper. They'd gone fishing, and he'd taken Sandy with him because she missed the river as much as he did. The entire time, she'd reverted to her puppy antics, jumping back and forth in and out of the water and scaring the darn fish so bad that he and Jasper had parted ways empty-handed.

He couldn't be upset at her though; it reminded him too much of the first time he'd seen her with Bella, jumping in and out of the water and scaring a little girl who knew nothing about dogs into thinking she was drowning.

He chuckled aloud to himself, lost in thought as he walked up to the house, Sandy jumping next to him.

When he saw Philip's fancy car in front, he quickly dropped the fishing rod and empty pail and ran at top speed the rest of the way, the dog on his tail. His heart pounded and his mind raced with thoughts of the horrors that could've befallen Bella or Alice in that damn Chicago suburb. Why in the hell they had to go there this summer…

Inside the house, he found no one in the front room, so he made his way to the kitchen.

"Now, I've already called a meeting with the members of the school board and discussed it with them-" he heard a voice he recognized as Philip Dwyer's say.

"Without discussing it with me first?" Carlisle accused.

Assured that it didn't sound as if anything had happened to Bella or Alice, Edward paused in his steps, remaining just outside of the kitchen.

"Carlisle, this will be a yearly scholarship which will not only benefit your family, but the entire community. Besides, it's a great opportunity for him. One you shouldn't dismiss off hand just out of sheer pride."

"I believe I have a right to my pride here!" Edward's father hissed.

"I have let you hold on to your pride at the expense of my own!" Phil hissed back. "And if they're both headed in the direction in which I believe they are, then that gives _me_ the right to-"

"Carlisle, Phillip." Edward watched his mother place a hand on his father's arm, alerting both men to his presence.

"What's going on?" Edward asked, looking from one wary face to another. "Are Alice and Bella all right?"

"They're just fine." Esme forced a smile. "Your sister called just a short while ago, and they're fine."

"Yes," Philip agreed. "I spoke with Isabella earlier this evening as well. They were going to the movie house with a few friends to see that new wizard film that's apparently in full color. Charles vouches for the young people's characters and assures me that he knows their parents; therefore, they have my blessing, as well as the blessing of your parents."

The three of them smiled at one another, yet to Edward, it sounded as if Dwyer had simply been rambling.

"Well, I'd best get going," Dwyer said, standing from the table where the three had been sitting. "With no children to mind this summer, Renee has convinced me to take her to the California coast for the week, and we must be up early." He looked at Carlisle. "Please let me know what you decide as soon as possible. We'll be back by weekend next."

Edward's father nodded tightly. He looked exhausted, his face drawn and resigned.

"Good night, Cullen family." Philip looked directly at Edward while petting Sandy's head. "Good girl," he grinned. "Dog sure does feel comfortable with you while my daughter's gone. Good night."

OOOOOOOOOO

That night, Edward lay in bed with his legs bent at the knee and his hands supporting his head, staring up at the ceiling. Every muscle in his body ached from a long day of work, yet he couldn't let his eyes close without his mind wandering to her, wondering what she was doing.

He snorted to himself. Last year he was so anxious to find himself a girl to put a stop to all his thoughts of her, to end the teasing from the guys in school, to put some distance between him and Bella.

To force her to give up her crush on him.

This year, he had no interest in looking at any girls, much less courting any of them. The guys had tried teasing him in school again, but he'd slammed Mike against a locker sometime around Christmas and that had ended that.

As for forcing Bella to give up her crush…

He chuckled miserably as he turned to his side, staring at the wall. Yeah, he was sure he'd done a pretty good job of that one as well.

Just as he reached over to turn off the lamp and allow himself to dream of summers past, there was a knock on his bedroom door.

"Come in."

His father walked in, followed by his mom, both with smiles pasted on their faces that seemed pretty phony and which did nothing but put him on immediate alert. Right away, he knew that this had something to do with Philip Dwyer's visit that evening.

He sat up quickly. "Are Bella and Alice really okay?" His hands shook at his sides.

Great Britain was on the brink of war, and though the European continent was far away, there were whispered conversations, tense hushes and fears of the Nazi's somehow attacking the U.S. It was yet another reason why Edward was so uncomfortable with both Bella and Alice being so far away this summer. And if the U.S. was attacked now, Edward knew he'd be enlisting despite his father's wishes that he wait until he was eighteen.

"Yes, they're fine. I promise you," Esme said softly.

Edward took a deep, calming breath, but when he looked up, both his parents were staring down at him, looking extremely uncomfortable.

"What's going on, then?"

"Edward," Carlisle sighed, "Philip was here today to offer you what is probably…a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

Edward's forehead creased.

"He's decided to establish a yearly scholarship for one promising, young man from the area. The scholarship would pay for an entire college education, from beginning to end, as long as the recipient completes a two-year internship within Dwyer's corporation upon graduation. With hard work, it's a great opportunity for growth. Now, he's held a meeting with the school authorities, and they all seem to agree that you'd be the perfect candidate for this first scholarship upon your graduation next year, as long as you keep your grades up."

Edward listened to this entire speech with a feeling of surrealism, as if he were in some sort of dream – not a nightmare, but by no means something wonderful either.

"What? Why? I'm not going to college, Pop, at least not right away. You know that."

"Edward-"

"And a job in Dwyer's corporation? I'm going off to the Air Corps next year, soon as I turn eighteen. There's a war coming and-"

"Edward this is a wonderful opportunity," Esme said. She took a seat next to him and picked up his hand, smiling encouragingly.

"Tell him to give it to someone else! To Masen!" Edward pointed in the direction of Masen's room with an excitement that was more horror. "Tell him to give it to Masen; he's the one going to college this year!"

Carlisle and Esme looked at one another.

Edward's father sighed. "Edward…times are hard; you know that," he said patiently. "They've been hard…for a while. Your Mama and I…" - Esme squeezed his hand - …well, we've tried our best, but you know we've only enough to send Masen to college, and only for a couple of years at that."

"Pop-"

"Now listen to me," Carlisle demanded much more firmly. "You'll be of legal age come next year, and if you choose to go straight into the service, I can't stop you. But right now, you are still under age and under my roof! I'm just asking you to listen. Are you ready to listen?"

"Yes, Sir," Edward said, nostrils flaring.

"Try to see things long range, Edward. Now war's coming; we all know that. Those who don't believe it are just sticking their heads in the sand. I don't know how, and I don't know when, but it's coming, and I know you're anxious to serve your country. Yet it would serve you well to think about this: you go to college now, and you'll have something to fall back on when you return. The chance for an education, Son, is not to be taken lightly. It's nothing to be dismissed out of…well, out of sheer pride or stubbornness."

"I know that, Pop, but I never asked-"

"No, you didn't, but we would've wanted to provide it had things been different. Masen gets his two years because he wants to take over the practice, but that's not fair to you."

"I'm not worried about that. Masen's always been the one meant to take over the practice."

Carlisle scrubbed a hand down his face. "Look at it another way. Being a college man, you'd be eligible to apply for officer's training instead of serving as an enlisted."

"I don't mind starting at the bottom."

"I know you don't, but don't throw away a fine opportunity just to make a point!" Carlisle said through gritted teeth. "This has been offered to _you_, Edward. An education will serve you…and possibly a family of your own…in the future. A decent job where you won't have to struggle. If you won't consider it for yourself, at least consider it for the wife…for the family you may someday have."

"Pop…" He shook his head, his heart practically beating out of his chest. He knew it was a great opportunity, something that many, including his own brother, Masen, would kill for. And…and if he ever had a family…if _she_ ever…

He shut his eyes tight, trying desperately to push away the thought, to drown it…but there it was…

The next words were spoken by his mother, and…well, those were the ones that would do it if any could. He always knew those would be the ones.

"Edward…Sweetheart, there's one more thing you may want to consider." She now wrapped both of her warm hands around his, holding his gaze intently. "If you stay…you'll be home next summer and…and so will Bella. If you accept this opportunity…Darling, you can make something of yourself…for her…"

_For her._

Edward's stiff shoulders fell, and he opened his eyes.

"By when do I have to make a decision?"

OOOOOOOOOO

One day in late August, around the time Renee would've been hosting Bella's yearly birthday gala had she been here this summer, Carlisle placed a call to Phillip. Esme stood nervously next to him, and Masen and Rose sat together on the sofa.

Edward leaned against the wall stiffly as he tried to listen to both the radio that was on in the background and his father's telephone conversation.

"Philip, have you heard?" Edward heard Carlisle ask. His father listened for a couple of minutes.

"Yes, they're saying that London is already evacuating its citizens, and due to the treaty Churchill signed with Poland, if Hitler does invade-"

He paused, listening to whatever Philip was saying.

"That's what I'm worried about. Until we know exactly what's going to happen, and what that means for us here in the States, I don't feel comfortable with Alice so far-"

Again, he paused. "Yes, yes, that's exactly what I was thinking. I want Alice home as soon as possible."

Another pause, and Carlisle sighed deeply while Esme moved away from the earpiece and gave her husband an imploring look.

"Please, Carlisle. I don't want Alice traveling alone."

"We'd be grateful for the escort for her," Edward heard his father say stoically.

"What about Bella?" Edward asked as soon as his father hung up. "What are they doing to make sure she's safe?"

He no longer cared how anxious he sounded. He just needed to know she'd be safe.

"Philip and Renee are returning to New York immediately, and Bella will be escorted to New York as well."

Edward drew in a deep breath. Though Europe was thousands of miles away, the thought of Bella being by herself, with no one to protect her-

"Is her beau escorting her?" Rose asked. "He'll be on his way to training anyway."

"Rose!" Masen hissed.

"What?" Rose said, looking around the room, her eyes flashing to Edward before returning to Masen. "I…I…I mean after the way he acted last summer, I didn't think…"

She didn't finish her sentence, but she didn't have to.

"Her beau?" Edward asked while the other four people in the room looked at one another.

"What beau?" he questioned. "_What beau_?" he repeated when no one answered.

"Alice has told us…" Esme said gently. "Bella's friend…Jacob…he's joining the service and…"

"Jacob?" Edward repeated, his lungs tightening so painfully it was hard to speak. "Jacob, her friend from Chicago?"

Again, no one answered, but it was written all over every face.

All summer he'd been dreaming of her…trying to find the words to apologize…trying to find a way to make everything work…

And she'd gone and found herself a beau in Chicago.

With all eyes on him, Edward sucked in a sharp breath of air while his lungs constricted and his hands fisted and unfisted at his sides. His mind conjured an image of his sweet Bella and some faceless man sitting on a porch, laughing, talking…

Kissing.

He swallowed thickly, dropping his head.

"Son, Philip is having a couple of his employees pick up Bella and escort her back to New York."

Edward nodded, and drawing in a deep breath, met his father's gaze.

"She'll be safe, correct?"

His father held his gaze. "Yes, Edward, she'll be safe."

"All right, then. All right." He tried to pull in another long breath of air, but it was as if his lungs had forgotten how to work.

"Excuse me," he said, and quickly stalked out of the house, hearing the porch door slam noisily against the frame.

Outside, Edward tried to remember how to breathe as he rested his forehead against the big, evergreen tree where Bella and Alice had played as little girls, where he himself had pushed them on the tire swing dozens of times while their legs kicked up high into the air, and they squealed and giggled hysterically.

He'd pushed and pushed…and apparently pushed her right into Jacob's arms – a man who was now enlisting…and most likely had no compunction about taking her kisses with him when he left.

"Edward?"

He half turned to see Carlisle standing behind him. And though he knew that his father was well aware of his feelings for Bella, he was grateful that there was absolutely no look of pity in his eyes. He wouldn't have been able to take his sympathy at that moment.

Instead, Carlisle seemed determined.

"Edward, before Philip leaves, he wants your decision on the scholarship." Carlisle squared his jaw and planted his feet firmly, an expression of impatience mixed with challenge marking his features. "Just what are you going to do, Son?"

Edward turned and fully faced his father.

The scholarship.

The scholarship that would delay his life-long plans, that would put an additional waiting period on what had always been his dream…what he'd always felt was his destiny. The scholarship that would make him and his family indebted to Dwyer; that would eventually make him an employee of Dwyer's. The scholarship he'd never asked for.

The scholarship that would allow him to better himself. That would turn him into someone with something to offer…something to offer someone who didn't seem to want anything from him any longer…

The scholarship that would keep him in place longer.

Bella would be back next summer; Philip had said as much in the mercantile. And when she returned, what would she find?

What would she still care about?

##########

"So did he decide to go to college and wait or not?" Skye (Olivia) asks.

"Man, never mind college; finding out about Jacob must've been like a kick in the balls," Olivia (Skye) says.

"Olivia!"

Ah, yes. I'm starting to see the differences between these twin girls; it's not so much physical as it is in the way they think. This makes me smile.

"Sorry, sorry," Olivia smirks quickly, "but seriously, Nana, I kinda feel sorry for him now. He's spent all summer thinking of you, and the war's coming, the opportunity he's been waiting for all his life, yet he may not even be able to go now – because of you!" she emphasizes. "And then he finds out that you've gone and gotten yourself another man!" she accuses. "A man that's going off to live his dream _and_ that has his girl now! Jeez, poor dude."

"Well, he's the one who screwed it all up the summer before," Skye suggests.

"But maybe Nana should've given him a chance to explain everything before she just up and left," Olivia retorts.

"Well maybe if he hadn't been such an ass to her, groping all over Jessica and laughing!"

"He didn't actually laugh; it was more of a snort! And I don't remember him actually copping a feel!"

"Now, now, Girls," I say. "The thing is, in the grand scheme of things, none of it ended up mattering. I mean, it mattered to us at the time, but with everything else that happened later on…"

"What happened, Nana?" Isabella asks.

"It was the beginning of the war," Leah murmurs quietly.

I sigh deeply.

"In late August, 1939, representatives from Britain, France and Germany met in Warsaw, Poland, to try to find a peaceful solution to the German dictator's demands for the Polish Corridor and for the city of Danzig. In the meantime, Alice was escorted home, as was I, with little time for goodbyes.

On September first, two weeks after that meeting where the German dictator _promised_ peace, the German _Luftwaffe_, their Air Force, invaded Poland, and all hell broke loose. Poland's allies - the U.K and France - declared war on Germany, followed soon after by Australia, India, New Zealand, South Africa & Canada. In return, Nazi Germany declared war on all of Great Britain's allies, and then declared war on all Polish allies.

World War II had begun."

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><p><strong>AN: Thoughts?**

*****I know you've all been missing Edward/Bella interaction, but I just had to show these bits about their summer apart. Next chapter is 1940 and…well, you'll see. :)*****

**AOI Playlist Song # 12:**

_**Stormy Weather**_** by Leo Reisman & His Orchestra (1933)**

_**Don't know why  
>There's no sun up in the sky<br>Stormy weather  
>Since my gal and I ain't together<br>Keeps raining all the time**_

**Twitter: PattyRosa817**

**Link to 'Stories by PattyRose' is on my profile page.**

**Have a great weekend!**


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